The Return
by anon462
Summary: Post S6, AU, Spike didn't go back to Sunnydale. Giles comes looking for him after 3 years. Buffy needs a favor. WIP
1. The Return Part 1

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The Return  
Part 1 - Blood of the Lamb

(S6 took place as shown in BtVS, S7 never happened. Spike earned his soul in Africa and spent the next three years (mostly in Europe) learning to deal with it. S3 of AtS had a slightly different ending. Connor sank Angel to the bottom of the ocean to endure endless death. Cordilia was never contacted by Skip and did not become a higher being. By the time she got to the beach to meet Angel he was already gone. Wesley recovered Angel from the ocean several months later and returned him to the Hyperion to rejoin Cordelia and to face Connor. Wesley left Los Angeles.)

He was on the hunt and moving through the narrow streets and alleys at a rapid pace. This was the farthest north he'd come in the past three years, but the early spring weather was mild and had enough rainy or overcast days to make it possible for him to move around the city even during the day, some of the time.

He was still a creature of the night, but being out during the day like this gave him a dangerous, almost suicidal, sense of excitement. He was constantly aware of the fact that it would only take a brief break in the cloud cover, and one golden ray of sunshine breaking through, to turn him into a walking pillar of fire and then a pile of smoldering ash, but he felt the risk was worth it. With the constant weight of his soul riding on his shoulders, he needed the danger, and the excitement, to make his life worth continuing.

Even so, he normally wouldn't be out at this time of the day except for the tip he'd gotten just an hour ago. He'd been hanging out in a demon bar talking with a few other demons, buying drinks when needed, using intimidation when necessary, when the Xexax demon he was talking to mentioned that he'd seen a Bazolax demon early that morning going to nest in an old warehouse down near the river. Bazolax demons didn't like sunlight any more than vampires did and would always go into hiding during the daytime and only come back out after dark. That was the real reason he was out. He needed to find that warehouse and the Bazolax demons nest before the sun set and it disappeared on him. He wanted to find it and kill it and get this contract taken care of tonight. He wasn't sure why, but this city made him uncomfortable and he wanted to get out of it as soon as possible.

Four days ago he'd been in Paris when he'd been contacted about a contract. He'd been offered ten thousand dollars American if he would go up to Hamburg, find and kill the demon, collect it's venom sack and bring it back to Paris in seven days. Apparently there was a witch that needed the venom for a spell, but there was a special time that the spell needed to be cast, so that was why there was a time limit and such a high payment offered. Normally he didn't like dealing with witches, he didn't really trust them, but ten thousand dollars was too much money to pass up. His last contract, harvesting demon parts for a group of asian wizards to make aphrodisiacs out of, had dried up recently and he needed the money.

He was hugging the wall of the alley as he moved along the back of the suspected warehouse. He could smell the recent presence of humans, but no trace of the Bazolax demon. He'd only seen one once before, in Brazil, but knew that if he ran across it's scent he would recognize it immediately. The thought had run through his mind several times over the past few day, wondering how a demon from the rain forest had gotten itself to Germany in the first place. He was just about to give up the search at the present warehouse and move on down to the next one when he finally caught the scent he was searching for.

Following the scent it led him to a place in the wall, behind some pallets, where the tin siding had been pried up and the demon had entered. Prying up the siding himself he entered the warehouse and followed the scent. As he moved through the dark quietly he noticed that the scent wasn't as strong as he remembered it should be. The scent of numerous humans was everywhere, but the scent of the Bazolax demon seemed weak, as if it were weeks old, not fresh like he had been led to believe by the Xexax demon. It would be just his luck that the Xexax demon, not the most reliable of demons in the first place, had misremembered when it had seen the Bazolax demon. That would mean that this whole search was a waste of time, because Bazolax demons never nested in the same place twice.

Again, he was just about to give up the search when he passed a partially open sliding door that had a very strong Bazolax demon scent coming from the other side of the doorway. Sliding the door open a little wider he entered the room. Quietly he opened the canvas bag he had looped over his shoulder and withdrew a short handled ax. The best way to kill a Bazolax demon was to cut off it's head, before it bit you and pumped you full of venom. Changing to game face, to enhance his senses, he started moving through the dark room searching for his prey.

Suddenly, bright lights lit up all around the room and he heard the door behind him sliding fully open. He spun around and holding one hand up before his face, shielding his eyes from the glaring lights, he could just make out about a half dozen humans spread out in front of the door blocking his only way out. One of the men started moving toward him and after a few moments was out into the light where Spike could see his face.

Recognition and fear came immediately. Watchers! If the Watchers were after him it was either to kill him immediately or to capture him and kill him slowly. There was no way he was going down without a fight. In a blink of the eye he hurled the ax in his hand at one of the men in front of him and charged forward. He had barely taken two steps when he felt the impact of multiple something's slamming into his chest, stomach and neck. He glanced down and saw several tranquilizer darts sticking out of him. Still, he kept pushing forward, he wasn't going to just lay down without a fight. He was nearing the man he had recognized when he felt the impact of the taser darts and fifty thousand volts passed through him knocking him unconscious. He fell face first at the mans feet.

Rupert Giles looked down at Spikes unconscious body and with a grim smile on his face, said "Good evening Spike. I've been looking for you."

As Spike started to regain consciousness the first thing he noticed was that he was sitting in a chair. The next thing he noticed was that he was handcuffed to the arms of the chair. For several minutes he sat there, not moving, not breathing, not doing anything to draw attention to the fact that he was awake. As his head cleared he remembered what had happened to him. Rupert Giles, Buffys "Watcher", and a Counsel "Action" team had taken him prisoner. After the first couple of years Spike had assumed that neither Giles or the Counsel were looking for him. Just goes to show what happens when you assume to much and let yourself get careless. Granted the Counsel had no use for vampires, especially him, but they didn't normally go out of their way to hunt vampires down unless they were causing problems. Which he hadn't done for a number of years. It must be about Buffy. Rupert was just the man that would agree with the old saying "Vengeance is a meal best served cold", and he'd told Spike once that if he ever hurt Buffy he would make Spike beg to die. "Guess this is it then, the dieing time" Spike thought to himself, "but there's no bloody way I'll beg for it. That'd be to easy."

"I know your awake Spike" Giles said calmly, "you stopped breathing when you woke up."

Realizing that there was no point in pretending anymore, Spike opened his eyes and raised his head to look around. Yes, he was in a chair, a heavy steel chair. Yes, he was handcuffed to the chair, with heavy police or military handcuffs, no way to break free of them. Directly in front of him was a large heavy wooden table, and surprisingly, his cigarettes and lighter. Also on the desk, but far beyond his reach, was the key to the handcuffs. Off to one side of the table was Spikes wallet, his money and some papers that he had been carrying in his inside coat pocket. Behind the desk in a chair similar to his own sat Rupert Giles, with a cup of tea in his hand and a look on his face that revealed nothing of what he was thinking. Behind Giles, standing against a wall next to a door, was another man. His arms were crossed in front of him, but he seemed alert and was watching Spike closely. Spike noticed that he had a taser holstered on his belt.

"Long time no see, Rupert" Spike said as a smirk of defiance spread across his lips. "Wish it could have been for a sight longer though."

Giles raised an eyebrow and with a pleasant smile on his face, but no hint of pleasure in his eyes, said "Yes, I suppose you do at that."

Spike sat there saying nothing, his eyes on Giles, but flicking occasionally over to the other man at the door. Giles sat there watching him, but said nothing. After about five minutes Spikes impatience got the better of him at last. "Is there a purpose to all this waiting Rupert, or are you just waiting for me to die of old age?"

Giles set his tea cup down on the table and taking his glasses off he slowly started cleaning them with the handkerchief he had taken from his coat pocket. When he finished cleaning his glasses and had put them back on, he started speaking. "Yes Spike, there is a purpose to all this, but probably not the one your thinking about. A month ago Buffy asked me to find you. She also made me promise not to harm you in anyway."

The look of surprise and disbelief were plainly written all over Spikes face. Hesitantly he started to speak. "I … I find … that a little hard to believe .. Rupert. The ….. last time I saw the Slayer, …. if she'd had a stake in her hand, … I'm more than sure she would have used it."

The whole time Spike had been speaking his eyes had continuously kept flashing over to the man standing at the door. Giles understood immediately that Spike was certain that "he" was aware of the circumstances of Spike and Buffys last meeting, but was hesitant to say anything about it in front of anyone else. Before Giles could say anything in response there was a tap on the door and it opened immediately. A man walked in carrying a large coffee mug and set it down on the table next to Spikes cigarettes. Spike could tell immediately that the mug was full of warm blood, human blood.

A quick flash of anger passed over Spikes face, replaced immediately by a blank look that revealed nothing. "I don't do that anymore Watcher" his voice grew harsher as he spoke. "Haven't for a long time."

Giles looked a Spike with surprise in his eyes and when he spoke the puzzlement was clear in his voice. "It's only blood Spike."

"It's human blood Watcher, and tainted blood at that" Spike growled back.

Spike could see the immediate anger that came to Giles face as he turned toward the man who had brought the blood in to Spike. "I specifically told you to get pigs blood, Wilson, fresh pigs blood, from the butcher."

The man came to attention, as if her were in the military, and stammered out quickly "S Sir, I did go to the butcher, bu but he wouldn't sell me the blood. He wanted to know what I wanted it for, and I couldn't te tell him the truth. So I went to a clinic and bought some bl blood from an orderly. I figured the vampire would prefer human blood anyway and it wouldn't do any ha harm. Sir."

Giles looked over at the man by the door and said in a calm but clipped tone of voice, "Jennings, take care of this, and find someone who knows what their doing to go out and get some 'pigs' blood like I ordered."

Jennings walked over to the table and picked up the mug of still warm blood and turning started to leave the room. Before he could get to the door, Spike spoke up. "Jennings"? When the man looked back at him, Spike continued. "Be careful how you dispose of that blood. There's probably enough disease in that cup to kill half this city. That's what they sell at those clinics, diseased blood. That orderly probably figured your man was buying it for a vampire and knew it wouldn't kill one of us. But it's still dangerous." Jennings stared down at the mug in his hand and then glancing back over at Spike nodded his head. He then left the room carrying the mug carefully. Wilson followed him out the door.

When Giles looked back over at Spike an apology was clearly written across his face, even though he didn't say the words. Instead he picked up the key to the handcuffs and flipped it over the table to Spike, saying only "We need to talk, it's important."

Spike caught the key in the air and quickly used it to unlock the handcuffs and free himself. He then calmly placed the key back on the table and picked up his cigarettes and lighter. Just as calmly he pulled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it up. Once the cigarette was lit he sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. Then in a calm tone of voice, without any hint of threat, he asked "Tell me Rupert, what's to prevent me from coming over this table and ripping your throat out?"

Behaving just as calmly, Giles reached inside his jacket and withdrew a stake and set it down on the table. "There's this, plus five men on the other side of that door with dart guns and tasers. I assure you that the rest of those men are no where near as stupid as Wilson, and even he is good in a fight."

Spike took a drag off his cigarette and drew the smoke in deeply, then let it out slowly. "Alright Watcher, you said we needed to talk, what about?"

Giles hesitated for several long moments before speaking. "Buffy asked me to find you, if you were still alive, or unalive as the case maybe, and to ask you a favor. But, before I can do that, I have to ask you some questions. I won't tell you what Buffy wants from you unless I'm certain that you are of no danger to her or others."

Two emotions immediately went to war with each other inside Spikes head. One emotion was almost a sense of joy, that Buffy would think of him with anything other than hatred and would be willing to ask him a favor to do anything but die. The other emotion was immediate anger at Giles for not telling him what it was that Buffy wanted from him. Fortunately, Spike had much better control over his anger now days and knew that no matter what he did, said, or threatened, Giles would never tell him anything unless he answered Giles questions first.

But before answering Giles questions he wanted a few answers of his own, for future sake, if there was going to be a future. "Did you set this all up, phony contract, lying informant, the whole setup? Or did I just get careless and you got lucky?"

Giles only paused for a few moments before answering. "Actually, it was a bit of both. One of the witches in the Coven contacted the witch in Paris and had her contact your agent regarding the contract. Just so you know for future reference, your agent wasn't in on the deal and thought it was legitimate. There actually was a Bazolax demon here about a week ago, but it was killed by one of our Counsel teams. That's where we got lucky, and you got careless. I was greatly afraid that when you got here that you would detect that the scent around the building was old and would get suspicious and break off your search before we could trap you. The Xexax demon that slipped you the information was working for us, and I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't kill him for leading you astray. I would also like to point out that if you hadn't attacked us like you did I would have asked you to sit down and talk with me, without the need of tranquilizer darts or tasers."

Spike lifted an eyebrow in an obvious look of disbelief and said "You can't really expect me to believe that faced with both you and a bunch of Counsel killers that you thought I would just go along with you peacefully?"

A slight smile flashed across Giles lips briefly before he spoke. "Well, not really. But they were under strict orders not to cause you permanent injury."

Spike sat for a minute smoking his cigarette before speaking. "Alright Watcher, seeing as how I don't plan to ever return to this bloody arsed city again, I'll give a pass to the Xexax demon. Course, if I ever do run across him somewhere else, I might change my mind." Spike stared at Giles for a moment to make sure that he understood that as far as Spike was concerned this whole entrapment situation had been set aside, for now. When Giles nodded his head in understanding, Spike continued. "Seeing as how this whole enterprise was set up just so that we could talk, and seeing that you already knew that I was in Paris, why didn't you just approach me there instead of going through this subterfuge?"

Without any apparent hesitation, Giles started to explain. "Knowing you were in Paris and approaching you there had certain problems attached that I didn't want to have to deal with. First, if I had approached you in Paris, one of several things might have happened. You could have run, fought or talked. If I had approached you with my men, again, you could have run, fought or talked. In either case there were certain aspects of the situation that I wanted to avoid. If you had run from me in Paris and gone underground it might have taken me months to relocate you. If you had fought, in an uncontrolled environment, you, myself or one of my men might have been killed or injured. I didn't want that to happen. And lastly, if we had talked in Paris, under almost any circumstances, the word of our meeting would have been all over the city within a few days. You know as well as I do that Paris is rife with intrigue, and speculation about a meeting between a Senior Council Member and a Master Vampire would have sparked a lot of interest. It was paramount to avoid such interest."

Not waiting for Spike to comment, Giles continued. "That is why the subterfuge. I needed to get you out of Paris, preferably for reasons that wouldn't draw undue attention. I needed you in a city with an airport, in a country where the Council has some influence, but wouldn't draw undue attention to our activities. I also needed the city to be enough of a backwater that you wouldn't suspect Council involvement and turn the contract down out of hand."

Spike sat for a full minute digesting what he'd just been told. He understood immediately what Giles had meant by wanting to avoid the interests of others. He was very aware that a number of people had an interest in him and tried to keep an eye on his activities. For the most part he had been successful in avoiding them and any direct interference they might want to exert. But still, his past drew attention he would rather avoid. When he finally spoke his voice was calm, but guarded. "Alright Watcher, I understand the how and the why of it now. So lets address the reason. I'm quiet sure that you are aware of the circumstances related to my leaving Sunnydale. I will also admit that I'm very much surprised that you haven't staked me yet, or worse, you did make that promise. But what I'm more interested in is why the Slayer would send you to find me and make you promise not to dust me. I am even more aware than you are of the level of hatred and contempt the Slayer has for me. So, other than asking that I stake myself, what possible favor would she ever ask of me?"

Giles sat there studying Spike, as he had been since before Spike had awoke from the tranquilizer darts. As he had studied every scrap of information he had been able to gather about Spikes activities over the past several years. The vampire sitting in front of him today looked almost exactly the same as the vampire he remembered from the past. Yes, there were a few subtle differences. The hair was still bleached blonde, almost white, but it was slightly longer and he had stopped using hair gel so that it was mostly a mass of loose curls. The cloths were still predominantly the same, black jeans, but new and better cared for. The button up shirt was dark gray silk with a lighter gray t-shirt under it. The boots were still the Doc Martins he had always favored, but again, well cared for. The long coat he wore was no longer leather, Giles knew where his old leather duster was, but rather what looked like a black London Fog Raincoat that was clean and well cared for. So, at a glance, Spike looked as he had always looked, but on closer inspection the differences were noticeable.

But the greatest difference between the Spike that Giles remembered and the Spike that was sitting before him was in behavior. The Spike he remembered from Sunnydale was a ball of nervous energy that could never be still for more than a few minutes at a time. Unless he was to drunk or to injured to move. The Spike sitting before him now was more calm, more in control of himself. Even the way he spoke. In the past, Spike had always come across as some kind of common thug from the back alleys of London. Now, his speech was more cultured, more educated, with only a few slips into the way he had talked before. But the biggest difference that Giles could see was in eye contact. The old Spike was always watching others, studying them, but when their eyes turned toward him he would most often glance away, unless he was angry or being defiant, then he would glare and let the anger or defiance burn in his dark blue eyes. This new Spike still watched and studied others, but when someone looked him in the eyes he didn't turn away and his eyes were not filled with anger. Only when he spoke of the Slayer did he still break eye contact, as if speaking of her caused him pain and he didn't want anyone to see it in his eyes.

When Buffy had asked Giles to search for Spike the first place he went after leaving Sunnydale was to go to Los Angeles to speak with Angel. As distasteful as any contact with Angel had ever been since the murder of Jenny Calendar and his own torture, Giles had controlled himself and was finally able to get Angel to reluctantly tell him that William, William the Bloody, had actually been a well educated gentleman when Drusilla turned him, and that it had only been when he had changed his name to Spike that he had started to behave and talk like a street thug. Angel claimed that Spike felt that his new persona better reflected who and what he was as a vampire. Angel had even admitted that it was only after these changes in Spike that the anger and hatred between the two of them had developed. He had claimed that before that, William had been a great disappointment as a vampire, he had been a sweet and sensitive young man, which was something that Angelus had to beat out of him to make him a proper vampire. It had nearly sickened Giles at the time to hear Angel reminisce nostalgically of the brutality of Angelus. Once Angel had realized that Giles had detected his nostalgic pleasure he had acted all ashamed and made the excuse that the behavior of Angelus was something he was now ashamed of, since he now had a soul. But excuses or not, soul or not, Giles recognized the fact that there were certain things that Angelus had done in the past that still gave a certain amount of pleasure to Angel today.

Once he reached London and was able to access the full resources of the Council, Giles had started an intense search for any and all information that might have been related to Spike over the past three years. After his sudden departure from Sunnydale there was no trace of his where abouts for about eight months. Then there were a few vague reports of a vampire in Greece, and possibly in Albania, that had displayed some rather atypical behavior for a vampire; such as attacking and killing other vampires and demons. But nothing concrete. It wasn't until Spike showed up in Romania and then again in Hungary that a positive identification was made on him, but even so there had been limited information on his activities, except for repeated reports of him fighting with other vampires and demons. Giles had assumed that Spike fighting with other vampires and demons was the continuing result of his having the chip in his head and that his need for violence led him to fight the only things he could fight, other vampires and demons.

That was up to about two years ago. The reports then confirmed that Spike had made his home in Rome and had been traveling all over southern Europe as a contract demon hunter. Some of the contracts had been for retribution and revenge on behalf of his clients. Other contracts had apparently been for the harvest of demon parts for a consortium of asian wizards that used the parts for spells and aphrodisiacts. But a year ago a confirmed report came in that Spike had brutally killed a priest by ripping his throat out and used his blood to write a message of some kind on a wall. The message had been written in Latin and the informant who had seen the message couldn't read it. This was the first indication that the chip in his head had been removed or was no longer working. This was the first of several things that needed to be addressed.

Giles had been studying Spike for at least five minutes, ruminating. Spike for his part had sat quietly, barely moving, except to light up another cigarette. When he started speaking his first question wasn't a surprise. "When did you have the chip removed?"

Spike let a smirk spread across his face, he had known instinctively what would be the first question. "I didn't. It's still in there. It just fires off randomly now."

"So it's malfunctioning" Giles asked? "Do you have any idea why?"

"You could call it a malfunction I suppose" Spike replied as he glanced away from Giles, breaking eye contact. "As to why? Shortly after I left Sunnydale it tried to kill me. It fired off so many times it nearly did. Guess it burned itself out partially, or wore out the battery or whatever it is that powers the thing, don't really know."

"How long ago was that" Giles asked.

"Two years and some months, don't know exact dates" was the reply.

"Was it firing because you were trying to feed?"

"No" was the only reply.

"Then why was it fireing off, trying to kill you, as you said?"

"Retribution."

A puzzled look spread over Giles face for several moments. "I understood that the chip only fired if you were trying to hurt someone, a human."

"It would also fire off if I had certain thoughts or memories."

"If that was the case and you knew this, why didn't you avoid these thoughts or memories? You were apparently able to do so when you were in Sunnydale" Giles asked pointedly.

" Didn't have control of my thoughts or my memories for awhile there Watcher. That's why it was trying to kill me. Bloody chip couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what was going on inside my head." Spikes reply was in a flat tone of voice reflecting no emotions.

"How often did it fire off like this?"

"Continuously."

When Spike glanced up at Giles face he could read both horror, and possibly pity, in his eyes. "How long did this last, the …. the continuous firing?" Giles asked, his voice slightly shaky.

"Six, seven months, don't know exactly. Took awhile before I could think clearly enough to realize it wasn't working anymore."

"Your telling me that the chip in your head was firing continuously for six or seven months, and it didn't kill you. Spike, I saw what that chip could do to you back in Sunnydale. I know the kind of pain it caused you. How could you have possibly survived that kind of pain and torment for so long without burning out your brain or going crazy?"

When Spike lifted his eyes and met Giles eyes, there was a look of pain in them that nearly took Giles breath away. "I was already crazy, or close enough to make no difference. That's why the chip couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what was just happening inside my head. Memories of a hundred and twenty years of mayhem and slaughter, the chip thought it was all happening now. Kept trying to stop me from doing what it thought I was doing. The more pain it caused the more intense the memories, the more memories the more pain. Like I said, retribution."

Giles was stunned by this revelation, it set his mind to spinning with thoughts. The fact that the chip would fire due to certain thoughts or memories was new information that he had never been aware of before. That Spike claimed that he was crazy for a period of time and had had no control over his thoughts or memories was also of interest. But the thing that was picking at his brain was wondering why Spike had gone crazy. Granted, Spike had never been the most emotionally stabile of individuals, at least not by human standards. But Spike wasn't human, he was a vampire, and in all the time that Giles had been a Watcher he had only heard of three instances of a vampire being what would be considered to be crazy. The first instance of course was Drusilla. The second time was when the Council had used an insane vampire to test Buffy during the Cruciamentum. But that vampire, like Drusilla, had been crazy before he'd been turned. The only other time a vampire was known to have been crazy was Angel. Apparently when Angel got his soul the guilt and remorse had driven him crazy for a period of time. He had also been crazy for a shorter period of time when he was returned from a hell dimension by the Powers That Be. But what could have happened to Spike to make him go crazy? Surely he hadn't been sent to a hell dimention and returned. But, the idea of Spike being cursed and getting a soul was absured. The chip itself would have prevented him from doing anything that would have provoked someone to curse him. Besides, the only known curse to give a vampire a soul was the gypsy curse, and no one but Willow even knew how to perform the curse, as far as he knew. But?

When Giles mind came back into focus he realized that a period of time had elapsed, five minutes, maybe, he wasn's sure. But as impossible as the idea seemed he had to know the answer. "When you left Sunnydale, did you go somewhere or do something that got you sent to a hell dimension? And, if you did, how did you get back?"

Spike didn't answer out loud, he just sat there with his eyes closed and shook his head sideways to indicate "No."

"Did someone put a curse on you" Giles asked nervously, "do you have a soul?"

Spike sat there with his eyes still closed, but said quietly "Not a curse." Then in a voice even lower, barely hearable "I earned the bloody thing."

"You what?" Giles snapped back, his voice louder and harsher than he intended.

Spike surged up out of his chair and leaned far over the table separating him from Giles. His eyes had turned the golden yellow of an enraged vampire, but his face stayed human. With his face less than a foot away from Giles face he yelled loudly " I earned it, you bloody arsed wanker!"

Before Spike could say anything more or Giles could respond, Jennings burst through the door with his taser in his hand. Giles saw at once the pending danger and quickly held up one hand and snapped out "Jennings STOP, everything's find, there's no danger."

Jennings stopped, but glanced over at Spike who had straightened up, but was still standing, his eyes still golden yellow. "Do you want me to stay, sir?" There was a tone of mistrust of the vampire and concern for Giles in his voice.

"No Jennings, no, everythings find. We both got a little overheated in our discussion" Giles said calmly. "You can go now, everythings fine."

While all this was going on, Wilson and an other man had stepped into the doorway, both carrying tranquilizer dart guns. Jennings hesitated briefly, then nodded his head to Giles. He then motioned to the two men to backup from the doorway and walking out of the room he closed the door behind him.

Giles let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding. When he looked back over at Spike he could see that his eyes were flashing from yellow to blue to yellow to blue. Giles correctly interpreted this to mean that Spike was still angry, but had himself under control. Not knowing what to say at the moment, Giles reached behind him toward a briefcase sitting on the floor and reaching inside pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He opened the bottle and picking up his tea cup, which still contained about an inch of cold tea, he flipped the tea onto the concrete floor and filled his cup nearly to the brim. He then set the bottle onto the table and pushed it across to within Spikes reach.

Spike had watched Giles retrieve the bottle of whiskey and fill his tea cup. When he pushed the bottle over to Spike, Spike picked up the bottle and after sitting back down brought it to his lips and tilting his head back he drank off half of the whiskey still in the bottle at one go. When he brought the bottle back down and looked over at Giles his eyes were again a clear blue.

Giles lifted his tea cup to his lips and drank off half the cup before setting it back down on the table. He then cleared his throat before speaking. "You'll have to pardon me for my rude response, but you have to admit what you said was a bit of a shock."

Spike didn't respond to his words, instead he reached for his cigarettes, still sitting on the table and after extracting one from the pack, lit it with the lighter.

Giles cocked a eyebrow at him and requested "May I?" indicating the cigarettes.

Spike slid the pack of cigarettes and the lighter across the table toward Giles. Giles took one cigarette from the pack and using the lighter, lit it. After taking a deep draw of the cigarette and letting the smoke out slowly, he focused his full attention back on Spike and said "Convince me."

"Why would I want to do that Watcher" Spike said with a sneer on his face.

Giles response was very clear, but without any attempt to intiminate. "Because, knowing that your chip has malfunctioned and no longer works properly, there's no way your getting out of this building alive, unless you do convince me."

The sneer was wiped from Spikes face to be replaced by a tense look and a narrowing of his eyes. Giles could see that Spike was clenching his teeth and a muscle was twitching in his jaw. After several tense moments, Spike lifted the whiskey bottle to his lips and drank off a large swallow. He then sat back in his chair and let out a long sigh of breath.

"When I left, … it wasn't out of fear … of Buf … of the Slayer. It was out of fear that I would hurt her again. You won't understand this Watcher, but I'd promised her that I wouldn't hurt her, …… and then I did. ….. I had to leave. …. I didn't know where I was going to go, so I just headed for L.A.. On the way there an old memory, about a legend, came to mind, about a powerful demon that could grant wishes. With nothing else to loose and no where else to go, I decided to see if it was true. I sold my bike in L.A. and arranged to have a crate air freighted to Africa. When I got to Africa I broke out of the crate and started my search." Spike paused long enough to light up another cigarette and to take another drink. "Somewhere in the Congo, God knows where, there's a vally. In the wall of the valley there's a cave. It took me awhile to find the place. When I got there the demon was waiting for me, like it knew I was coming. It told me that to earn the right to ask a wish I had to pass some trials. Once I passed the trials, I told it to make me what I was … so that Buffy could get what she deserves. Wasn't thinking to clear when I made the wish, not really certain what I was asking for. But, the demon, it gave me my soul back."

Giles sat studying Spike for several minutes before speaking. "What kind of trials, and why did it give you a soul.?"

Spike looked Giles in the eyes, his own eyes were filled with remembered pain. "What kind of trials isn't important, just understand that they were all to the death, and I survived them. I earned the wish, Watcher. Nobody gave it to me, nobody cursed me, I earned it, with blood and pain. … …Why a soul? The bloody wanker probably thought it would be funny."

Still not satisfied, Giles asked, "Why would it be funny to give you a soul?"

"Because as soon as the great bloody beasty slapped it's hand against my chest and burned my soul back into me, my head became flooded with memories of every bit of mayhem and murder I'd ever commited. Which set the chip to firing off, and between the memories and the pain, it drove me crazy. About six, seven months later I woke up in Eygyt. Don't know how I got there, don't know how I survived all that time either. Only know that my thinking was still kind of wonky and the chip wasn't firing anymore. I stole away on a freighter and ended up in Greece. After that I just traveled place to place, until I got to Rome and settled in for awhile."

Giles sat for several moments digesting what Spike had told him. He wasn't quite ready to believe it all, but he wasn't ready to discount it either, not yet anyway. He reached out across the table and took another cigarette from Spikes pack and lit it up. He then drank down the remainder of the whiskey in his tea cup.

"Say that I believe you, about this demon giving you a soul." Giles said in a calm controlled voice. "Does that mean you can't hurt humans, that the soul is doing what the chip use to do, controlling your vampire demon?"

Spike studied Giles for a minute before speaking. "You know, don't you? You know I've killed?" Spike continued to study Giles and saw a slight twitch in his cheek muscle. "But not to feed, Watcher. I don't feed on humans anymore. You can believe it's because of the soul, or because it's my choice. Either way, same difference. I'm a bit like you now Rupert" Spike used Giles first name deliberately, "you know, when you let old Ripper out on occasion, for the better good of mankind, and all that rot."

Spike watched the twitch in Giles cheek jump again, repeatedly, as he clenched his jaw and held his temper. "Let me show you something, Watcher" Spike said, his voice calm and not showing any of the strain he was actually feeling. Reaching into his coat pocket he extracted a rosary. Gathering the long strand of beads in his hand he let the cross at the bottom hang down where it swung back and forth. Slowly he brought the one hand over to the other and laid the cross over the back of his hand. He sat there watching Giles stare at the cross. Nothing was happening. The cross wasn't burning his flesh.

When Giles didn't react or say anything, a flat thin smile crossed Spikes lips briefly. As he placed the rosary back in his pocket he asked "Still not convinced Watcher? Got any Holy Water in that briefcase of yours?"

Giles was a bit confused by the question. He had watched Spike lay the cross of the rosary across his hand and was stunned that it hadn't burned him to the bone. Still keeping his eyes on Spike he reached behind him and rummaging around in his briefcase for a few moments, he then pulled out a small bottle of Holy Water and slid it across the table to Spike. He wasn't certain what Spike wanted the Holy Water for, but he definitely wasn't prepared for what happened.

Spike picked up the small bottle and removing the cap, held up the bottle, said "Cheers" and poured some of the water into his mouth and swallowed it. Giles jumped up from his chair, his eyes nearly bulging out, but nothing happened. With his voice shaking and sweat breaking out on his forehead, he asked "What does that mean?"

"What it means? It means I'm still a killer Watcher, but now I'm a righteous killer." Spikes voice was tense, anger just under the surface.

Giles temper snapped. Hearing what Spike had just said and seeing what should have been impossible, fear and anger made him speak harshly. "Damn you to hell Spike, you either tell me the truth, right now, or I'm going to stake you and forget my promise to Buffy."

A grin spread over Spikes lips, but his eyes were cold. "You want the truth Ripper?" his voice just as harsh as Giles. "I don't think your ready for it. I know I'm not ready to tell you." Suddenly, without warning, Spike yelled out loudly, "Jennings!"

Within seconds Jennings was coming through the door, his taser in his hand. When he saw Spike sitting back in his chair, not making any threatening gestures, and that Giles was unharmed, he paused. Spike started speaking to him before he could say anything to Giles. "Rupert here wants to hear the truth. I don't think he's ready for it. Send someone out and have them bring us some whiskey. Better make it three, no, four bottles, and make it quick."

Jennings didn't say anything to Spike, he just turned his head toward Giles for instructions. Giles looked at Jennings and letting out a sigh, said "Do as he says Jennings, four bottles of whiskey, as quickly as possible."

Jennings nodded his head to Giles and left the room. Spike withdrew a cigarette from his pack on the table and lit it up. He then slid the pack of cigarettes and the lighter across the table to Giles. Giles had just started to light a cigarette when Jennings came back into the room. He was carrying a pint flask and two glasses. He set them down in front of Giles and left the room without a word.

Spike finished the inch of whiskey in the bottle that Giles had given him earlier, then set the empty on the table. Standing up, he reached over and picked up the flask and opened it. He filled one of the glasses nearly to the brim and pushed it in front of Giles. He then filled the second glass, set the flask down on the table in front of Giles, picked up the second glass and sat back down in his chair. He drew hard on his cigarette, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs, took a large swallow off the glass of whiskey, then let the smoke out of his lungs. He sat with his eyes closed, his cigarette between his lips, nodding his head as if he were listening to music only he could hear. After about a minute he removed the cigarette from his lips and downed the remainder of whiskey in his glass, his eyes remained closed the whole time. When the cigarette burned down to the filter and went out, Spike opened his eyes and looked across the table at Giles.

Giles was sitting back in his chair, his head bent forward, his face a study of emotions that he was having little luck consealing. His eyes were distant and moving rapidly from side to side, as if he were reading something in front of him. His brow was furrowed as if he were in deep consentration. Spike knew that Giles was replaying every word that had passed between them, and probably everything else he had learned or guessed about Spike and what he had been doing the past three years.

When Spike stood up it drew Giles out of his concentration. Spike picked up the flask again and topped off the half full glass in front of Giles. Spike poured the remainder of the whiskey into his own glass and sat back down. He looked over at Giles and said quietly, "Drink up, Rupert. Your going to need it."

Giles picked up his glass and took a sip of the whiskey, then set the glass back down. Focusing his eyes on Spikes face, he asked "What is it that your going to tell me that I need to be half drunk to listen too?"

"Not half drunk, Rupert, fully drunk" Spike said, his voice not at all slurred by the whiskey he'd already drank. "I need to be drunk to tell you, and you'll need to be drunk to listen. Because what I'm going to tell you is the truth, and your not going to like it."

"If your going to tell me the truth, Spike, then why don't you get started?" Giles snapped out, his temper slipping out again.

"I'm waiting for the whiskey to arrive. Once I start this thing I don't want any interruptions. Besides, I'm not drunk enough yet, and neither are you" Spike responded calmly.

In response to Spikes words, or maybe in defiance of them, Giles gulped down all the whiskey in his glass then slammed it down on the table in front of him. Spike tilted his head back a little and downed the remaining whiskey in his glass, then gently set it down on the table. He then sat back in silence, and waited.

In a little less than ten minutes there was a tap on the door and then it opened. Jennings walked in carring two bottles of whiskey, by their necks, in each hand. He set the four bottles down on the table, but closer to Giles than to Spike. Before leaving he also pulled two packs of cigarettes out of his pants pocket and dropped them on the table. He nodded to Giles without saying a word and started to leave. Before he could get to the door, Spike spoke up. "Jennings, if you hear any loud voices, don't worry about it. I promise that I won't hurt old Rupert here."

Jennings didn't speak, he just looked to Giles for instructions. Giles glared over at Spike for a moment before speaking. "I've already told Spike that he's not getting out of this building alive, unless I say so. So I'm relatively certain that I won't come to any harm. If we do get a little loud, ignor it. But Jennings, if Spike comes out of that door before me, take him down, and if I'm dead, make sure he dies slowly."

Jennings, looking over at Spike and with a smile on his face, said "It'll be a pleasure, Sir." He then walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Harsh, Rupert, very harsh" Spike said, but he was smiling and by his tone of voice he wasn't the least bit offended. He then leaned forward and read the lables on the bottles. All four bottles were German whiskey, two bottles of Bourbon and two of Scotch. Spike reached out and grabbed one of the bottles of Bourbon before speaking. "I'll take the Bourbon. German Scotch tastes like sheep piss."

Before he could claim the second bottle of Bourbon, Giles grabbed it. "Will both take the Bourbon. If we get through these, neither one of us will care what anything tastes like by then."

Spike smirked at Giles, but didn't comment. He sat down, opened his bottle, filled his glass and drank it all down. He then refilled his glass, lit a cigarette, then sat back and waited.

Giles glared at him, opened his own bottle, filled his glass and drank it down, then refilled it. He also lit a cigarette and sat back, waiting for Spike to start.

Spike waited for a full minute before he started speaking. "Like I told you, when I left Egypt I went to Greece, headed north to get away from the cities. I didn't have any money and the cloths I'd nipped in Egypt were more rags than anything else. I was feeding off sheep for blood, the soul didn't like it, but wasn't kicking up to much fuss as long as I didn't do it too often. Got up north, right on the Albanian border, when a hearder set his dogs on me. The bloody soul wouldn't let me kill them so I had to run from them. Ran half the night and ended up in this little vally, had a little village, couple dozen homes. I was worn out and hid out in the attic of the largest building, turned out to be the church. Figured I'd rest up for the day, maybe two, see if I could steal some food, change of cloths maybe. Anyway, hid out the rest of the night and most of the following morning. There was this big ruckus down below, down in the chapel, and I snuck down from the attic to see what it was all about. One of the families that lived outside the village, close to the border, had just brought in two bodies to the church. From what I could see it looked like an old man and an old woman, all dried up and wrinkled. But hearing the villagers they kept refering to the bodies as children. So I snuck a little closer, to get a better look, and I could see that they were children. But something had sucked all the life out of them."

Spike filled his glass and drank off a large swallow before continuing. "That's when it hit me the first time, the wrongness of it all. They were children, Watcher, and something had sucked all the life out of them. Not like a vampire, taking their blood, but their actual essence. They were children and something had sucked a hundred years of potential life right out of them, leaving their bodies looking like dried up old people. By the looks on their faces, it must have been horrifyingly painful."

Spike shuddered at the memory, then downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass before refilling it again. "I've dealt a lot of death in my time Watcher. Men, women, children, I've killed them all. But it was never about the pain. Sure, fear makes the blood sweeter, but I was never into the hurting part of it, that was Angelus, Darla and Dru, they liked to play with their food." When Spike glanced up at Giles he could see the disgust on his face. Spike downed the full glass of whiskey and then refilled it.

"Anyway, like I said, there was a wrongness about these deaths that bothered me. Maybe it was the soul, probably was, but I had this urge to do something, for the children, I don't know, I couldn't turn my back on them. I waited for everyone but the priest to leave, wasn't looking for trouble, just wanted information. As soon as he was alone with the bodies I came out of hiding." Spike took another drink before continuing. "Now see here Watcher, this is where your going to think I start lieing, but I'm not. This here priest, he was an old man, been around for a long time. He took one look at me and knew what I was right off, but he wasn't afraid of me, not at all. He seemed surprised that I was inside his church, but he wasn't afraid. When I asked him if he knew what had happened to the children, what had killed them, he told me everything. Told me there was a scorcerer that lived on the other side of the border, in Albania, that had figured out how to prolong his own life by draining the life out of others. Seems he liked draining children the most, cause he got more life energy out of them than adults. He told me this scorcerer had been doing this kind of thing for a long time, since the priest was a boy himself, maybe even before then. Now you got to understand, these people were sheep herders and farmer, pretty superstitious lot, scared to death of this scorcerer, afraid he would curse them all or something, too afraid to try to stop him or kill him. So this priest he tells me how to find the scorcerer, gave me some food and warm cloths, let me sleep the rest of the day. That night, when I was getting ready to leave, the priest comes to me and tells me that he had been praying for me to come save the children. Tells me that he has something that would help me. He held out something and put it in my hand. When I took a look at it, it was a small religious icon of an angel dressed all in black with black wings. Course I nearly dropped the thing, thinking it would burn right through my hands, but it didn't burn me at all. The icon was on a chain and the priest told me to wear it around my neck, that it would protect me."

Spike took another drink and looked Giles directly in the eyes. He could read it in Giles eyes that he was finding this whole story very hard to believe, the doubt was clearly evident by his expression. "Look Rupert, I can see what your thinking, but just go along with me for awhile longer. Like I'd told you earlier, ever since I woke up in Egypt my thinking had been a little wonky. Make that my excuse if you want to, but what this priest was telling me and him giving me the icon, it all made some kind of sense to me, and the soul was making me feel kind of happy about it all. So, anyway, shortly after dark I took off and headed over into Albania and following the priest directions I found the sorcerers lair. It wasn't much of a place, just a big pile of stones to my way of thinking, easy enough to sneak inside of without being seen. At least that's what I thought. Turns out the scorcerer had spells out to detect anyone coming near his place. Turns out he could also tell I was a vampire. When I entered his home without an invite, it surprised him and he decided to capture me instead of killing me outright. So, anyway, he did, capture me that is. Had some kind of spell that froze me in place, couldn't move a muscle, made me helpless. He had a couple of demons under his control, thrall maybe, and they carried me into a room where he experimented with his spells and kept all his magical equipment and spell books. He started gloating about how easy it had been to capture me and wanted to know how I'd been able to enter his home without and invite. I lied and told him that it was some gypsy magic I'd picked up in the past that made it possible. Truth is, at the time I didn't know how I'd gotten in without an invite. But, see, this scorcerer, he'd been wondering what it would be like to try to drain the life out of a vampire, something that could live forever, for a long time. I just happened to be the first vampire he'd ever had the chance to try his spell on. So, he goes to this big chest and brings out this long knife."

Giles watched Spike fill his glass and drain it, then fill it again. He then lit up a cigarette and after filling his lungs with smoke and letting it out slowly, he sat for a few moments to collect himself. Giles was having difficulty believing Spikes story, and wasn't really certain what it had to do with anything anyway. But it was evident from the way Spike was behaving that what he was saying seemed both important to him and at the same time very disturbing.

When Spike started talking again, his voice was husky and thick with emotion. "You ever been in the presence of something that's truly evil, Watcher? Something so evil you could feel it in the air you breath? So evil that it could make the skin crawl and turn the stomach of even a vampire? Well that knife was evil, Watcher. Looking at it made my eyes itch. I think it was probably the most evil thing I've ever seen in my entire unlife. So, anyway, this knife is what the scorcerer used to drain the life out of others. He would stab them with it. Not a killing blow. Just hard enough and deep enough to peirce the skin and muscle a bit. Then with the spell he used he would draw a persons life essence out of their body into the knife and from the knife it would pass into him. I don't know how many people that scorcerer drained the life out of in his time, but that knife was old Watcher, thousands of years old, and it had been used to kill thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people. The death of everyone of those people was present in that knife, and every death had been painful beyond your ability to imagine."

"So I'm standing there, unable to move, helpless, and the scorcerer starts chanting his spell and comes to stand before me. He's going to suck the life out of my body and there wasn't a damned thing I could do to stop him from doing it. He's standing there smiling at me as he stabs me in the chest. But, that icon the priest gave me, it was under my shirt and coat. When he stabbed me in the chest, he stabbed directly into the icon. Whatever power or religious piety or whatever else might have been in that icon, it broke the spell that held me in place. Before the scorcerer could move or cast a new spell, I moved fast and I ripped his throat out. So there it is Watcher, my first human kill since I'd first got that bloody chip in my head, the first act of violence I'd commited against a human since I'd got my soul. And you know what Watcher? The soul didn't make me feel bad, it didn't punish me, it didn't drag the deaths of all those I'd killed in the past and march them before my eyes. You know what it did Watcher? It made me feel good, happy actually."

Spike started to refill his glass with whiskey again, but after hesitating for a few moments he brought the bottle to his lips and tilting his head back he drank directly from the bottle until it was empty. He sat back in his chair with his eyes closed letting the whiskey work on him, the empty glass in one hand, the empty bottle in the other. After several minutes of silence Spike opened his eyes. Giles was across the table watching him intently, but had not said a word. Leaning forward in his chair slowly, Spike set the glass and the bottle down on the table, carefully. Then bracing both hands on the table he pushed himself to his feet. Leaning across the table, still bracing himself with one hand, he reached across the table and grabbed one of the bottles of scotch. Spike then straightened up and let himself fall back into his chair. Carefully he took the cap off the bottle and raised it to his lips, taking a large swallow. Looking over the table at Giles, he said "You were right Watcher, still tastes like sheep piss, but don't really care anymore."

Giles continued to watch. He'd seen Spike drunk before, but only once had he seen him this drunk. A month after Buffys death on the tower he'd gone to Spikes crypt in the middle of the afternoon to check on him. Willow had activated the Buffy-bot two days previously and Spike had walked into the Magic Box to meet up with the Scoobies to go out on patrol. Giles had seen Spikes face that evening when he saw the bot for the first time since Buffys death. The look on Spikes face could only have been described as the look of someone in deep emotional pain. Spike had run out the door of the Magic Box and no one had seen him for the past two days or nights. Dawn had asked Giles to check on Spike to see if he was alright. When he found Spike, propped up against a wall of his crypt with a half dozen empty bottles scattered around the floor, he was to drunk to stand, but the look of pain in his eyes was like a burning torch. That was the first time that Giles had allowed himself to believe that Spike might actually have had some kind of real feelings for Buffy before her death, beyond mere obsession.

Seeing Spike as drunk as he was, seeing the pain burning in his eyes, Giles had to give credence to what he'd just been told. Giles knew that Spike was to drunk to lie to him, because when Spike was this drunk he didn't care enough about self-preservation to bother to lie. Quietly, but loud enough to be heard, Giles asked "What happened next?"

Spike had been staring at the wall behind Giles, not really seeing anything, memories passing through his mind. When he heard Giles speak, he repeated the question, then answered. "What happened next? Put the knife back in the iron box the sorcerer kept it in, couldn't touch it, used fire tongs to move it. Gathered up his spell books and some other things. Put em all in a chest with iron strapping, found some chains and locks, wrapped em around the chest. Carried the whole thing back to the priest, barely got there fore the sun came up. Priest had me stay for a few days, fed me blood, gave me cloths, gave me some money too. Held a Mass before I left, told all the people in the village that the sorcerer was dead. Told them that God had sent them an angel to avenge the children. Showed them that bloody icon too. When the sun set he asked me to put the chest in the back of a truck, didn't want his people to touch it. He was going to take the chest to the head of his Order, in Athens I think. We left the same time, he went south, I went north. Traveled the border till I got to Bulgaria, went north to Romania, then Hungary to Austria, on to Italy, then down to Rome."

Spike seemed to wind down then and sat silently for several minutes. Giles prodded Spike by saying "And then in Rome you killed a priest."

When Giles words penetrated Spikes consciousness a sharp bark of laughter escaped his lips. Looking over at Giles he took a drink from the bottle in his hand and with a sneer on his lips and enough sarcasms in his voice to remind Giles of Spike at his worst back in Sunnydale, Spike said "Don't you go crying over that bloody bastard Watcher. He'll be burning in hell for eternity and deserves every moment of it."

"And why would that be" Giles asked? Again prodding Spike to continue talking.

"Cause he was a bloody pedophile and a murder, Watcher, that's why" Spike responded with anger in his voice. "Only regret I have over his death is that I couldn't make it last longer."

"Unfortunately Spike, the world is full of pedophiles and murderers" Giles said in an even, reasonable tone of voice. "What made it your business to seek out and kill this one?"

"Another priest, Watcher" Spike snapped out at Giles. "Another old priest, with a rosary in one hand and a bible in the other. Knocking on my door, asking me to save a child."

Spike tilted his head back and drank a couple of long swallows of scotch from the bottle in his hand. Then looking over at Giles with anger, but not really an anger directed at Giles, more like an anger directed at the world in general. "When I moved to Rome I found me a nice little neighborhood to live in. Cleaned out all the vamps and demons in the area, ran off the bad element of humans too, drug dealers, muggers, thieves, pimps and whores. Made things peaceful, quiet like. Whenever I wasn't out of town on business, I kept it that way."

"Ya know Watcher, Rome's an old city, people go missing all the time. Men, women, children, just disappear, no one seems to notice, or care. But that old priest, he cared. A little girl disappeared on her way to his school. Just two, three, blocks from her home to the school, and she just vanished. Priest comes knocking on my door, asking me to try to find her. Knows what I am, says he trusts me, says he knows what I been doing, keeping the bad element away." Spike took another drink. When he started speaking again there was a tone of abused irony in his voice. "It's bloody hilarious Watcher, I use to 'be' the bad element, now I'm the bleeding neighborhood watch, protecting puppies and children, and little old ladies. Tried to tell that priest that it wasn't any of my business, but I knew the child, least ways I'd seen her before, playing in the streets with her mates. So I agreed to help, try anyway, no guarantees mind you. Went with him to the girls home, got some of her cloths, needed a scent to follow. Traced her route from her home to school, didn't have any trouble locating where she got grabbed up. Left the priest behind to follow the scent, chased after it for hours, all night in fact."

Spike raised the bottle of scotch to his lips and took another drink. Checking the bottle and finding only a little left in it, he raised it to his lips again and drained it empty. Slowly pulling himself forward in his chair he set the empty bottle down on the table. Twice he tried to rise to his feet, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. Looking across the table at Giles, Spike frowned at him. Giles took the hint and picking up the last full bottle of scotch, taking the cap off, he slid the bottle across the table to where Spike could reach it. Once Spike had the bottle in his hand he let himself slump back into his chair. After taking a small sip from the bottle, he started talking again.

"The soul, became all obsessed with finding the girl. Wouldn't leave off, kept pushing me to keep searching. Sun was almost up, kept pushing and pushing. Was like it kept telling me I had to keep searching, that there wasn't much time left. Found the place, just minutes before the sun came up, wasn't time to call for help, the priest, the police, anyone? I could smell the girl, smell her fear. Then I smelled her blood. The soul went all bonkers like, with 'righteous anger' and 'wrath of god' kinds of feelings. I vamped out, went into a blood rage, charged the door of the house. Didn't know how I was going to get into the house, not being invited an all. But the soul didn't care and the door didn't even slow me down. That was the second time, Watcher, that I'd entered a humans home without an invite. Seems I don't need one anymore. Least ways not when the bloody soul is running things."

Spike turned the bottle of scotch up and took a long drink before he continued speaking. "When I went crashing through that door didn't know what I was expecting, sure as bloody hell wasn't what I found. I knew the girl was in there, could smell her fear, her blood. The soul was screaming inside my head 'Save the Child! Save the Child!', over and over and over. Came crashing through that door, found a priest, all done up in priestly robes. The girl was tied all spread eagled on an alter, black candles burning all round the room. The girl was all dressed up, little white stockings with little black shoes, pretty white dress with a garland of flowers in her hair, and a gag in her mouth so she couldn't scream. He'd prayed over her all night, Watcher, washed her with holy water, dressed her, blessed her innocents, then raped her. I come crashing into the room, he had his hands around her throat, was strangling her slowly while he raped her. Didn't have time to think about it, just ripped his throat out. Wished later I'd had the time to kill him slowly." Spike fell silent again, he didn't move for several minutes. When he did move, it was only to bring the bottle of scotch to his lips and to swallow.

Giles sat in silence himself, the shock and horror of Spikes story had left him speechless. But not for a moment did he doubt the truth of what Spike had told him, the obvious pain of remembering and telling the story assured the truth of it. With shaking hands Giles picked up his own bottle of whiskey and filled his glass. Using both hands, his hands were trembling so much he knew he would spill the drink otherwise, Giles raised the glass to his mouth and gulped the whiskey down. The whiskey had a steadying effect on his nerves as he set the glass back down on the table. As his nerves steadied, Giles realized that the story wasn't finished yet. He prodded Spike to continue, more gently than before. "Our informant said you left a message, written in blood on a wall. Would you tell me what it said?"

When Spike lifted his eyes to Giles he wanted to sneer at him for wanting to hear more, but memory and pain were to fresh to allow such a minor show of emotions. Instead, he reached out to the table and picked up his cigarettes. Taking one from the pack, he used his lighter to light it. Drawing the smoke in deeply he filled his lungs, then slowly he let the smoke out. "I told you, the soul had me feeling all 'wrath of god' like? After I'd killed the priest, I needed to take care of the girl. He'd hurt her Rupert" Spike said softly. "He was a big man, and she was just a little bitty thing, seven or eight maybe. Tore her when he raped her, was bleeding pretty badly. Had to cut her free, then put a soft pad on her, like a big soft diaper. Wrapped her all up in a blanket to keep her warm, make her feel safe. She just lay there, letting me take care of her, she wasn't afraid of me, even though I was in vamp face the whole time. Guess cause I'd saved her, her life anyway. Priest had a car in a garage, found some paint and covered the windows, like I'd done with the old DeSoto. Was about to carry her out to the car when the soul got all 'wrath' like, wanted to leave a message behind. I used the priest own blood, plenty of it laying about. Don't know where the words came from, I just started writing. Message was, 'They who shed the Blood of the Lamb, shall face the Wrath of God, and suffer the Hand of the Angel of Death'. After that I took the girl home, or at least back to the old priests church. I told him what I'd found, what had happened to the girl, what I'd done. Neither one of us knew how this was all going to play out, what with me killing a Vatican priest, even if he was a monster. So the old priest gave me a couple thousand Euros he had available, I went to my place and packed real quick, took the dead priests car and headed north. Drove up to Florence, caught a train to Paris, started over again."

When Spike finished speaking he seemed to slump even deeper into his chair. His head bent forward until his chin came to rest against his upper chest. He sat like that for a full minute or more, not moving. Giles, fearing that Spike was falling to sleep, raised his voice and spoke sharply. "Spike. What happened next?"

Spikes head snapped up. He looked over at Giles as if he was trying to remember where he was and what he was doing. An uncontrollable yawn stretched his mouth open wide and his eyes squeezed shut. Shacking his head with a quick vigorous snap he tried to wake himself up. Mumbling to himself, but loud enough that Giles could hear him, "Bloody hell, sun must be coming up, need some sleep."

Prodding Spike to wake him up, Giles said in a condescending voice "Poor Spike, can't hold his liquor anymore. Had a four hour nap earlier and still can't make it through the night. Must be getting feeble in his old age."

Spike shook his head again and straightened himself up in his chair. He glared across the table at Giles as he spoke. "Bloody pillock, drink you under the table any day or night of the week. And getting knocked out with tranqs and tasers isn't exactly taking a nap, you wanker."

"Be that as it may, you've still had more sleep than I've had in the past forty-eight hours. As for drinking me under the table, you're the one falling to sleep." To emphasize his point, Giles poured a double shot of whiskey into his glass and drank it down in one go.

Spike continued to glare at Giles as he straightened himself up in his chair and forced himself to wake up. He reached out for the bottle of scotch sitting on the table, he couldn't remember putting it there, and half filled his glass. Setting the bottle down he picked up the glass and downed the scotch. He then picked up his cigarettes and lit one. He refilled his glass and sitting back in his chair with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other he glared across the table at Giles again.

Looking across the table at Giles, Spike could see how tired the Watcher seemed to be. He tried to figure how old Giles was, had to be at least mid forties, maybe even early fifties. Right now Spike thought that Giles looked like a worn out sixty something, but still he was pushing himself to go on, to stay awake, to pump more information out of Spike. Spike would never admit it, least of all to the Watcher, but he had always admired that about him, pushing himself on and on, beyond his natural limits, to get the job done.

Giles sat at the table trying to present himself to Spike as if he were fully in charge of all his faculties. Inside he knew that he was on the edge of passing out from both lack of sleep and to much alcohol. That last bit of bravado, taking a double shot of whiskey just to prove to Spike that he was still capable of continuing on for the rest of the night and all day long if necessary, might do him in yet. Looking across at Spike he could see how wasted he was from all that had happened this night. Granted he had no idea how long it had been since Spike had last slept, but he had drunk the better part of five quarts of whiskey. But it was the emotional toll of the night, telling his story to Giles and reliving the apparent pain it had caused him that seemed to be weighing heaviest on him. But still Spike continued to push himself on and on. Giles would never admit it, least of all to Spike, but he had always admired that about him, his ability to push himself on and on as if he had no limits.

Spike shook his head one more time to help wake up, took a drag off his cigarette and a sip of scotch. To tired to continue being angry, he asked "Alright Rupert, what do you want to know now?"

"I want to know what happened next? I can't believe that you killed that priest, ran off to Paris, and now it's a year later and nothing has happened." Giles asked, his voice reflecting his own tiredness.

Spike took a sip of scotch, then a drag off his cigarette. Letting out a sigh, he started talking. "Tried to keep a lower profile in Paris, just in case, but it didn't work out." Letting out another long sigh, Spike took another drag off his cigarette. "There was this young girl, sort of reminded me of the Niblet. Long brown hair, gawky kind of walk, like she hadn't grown into her body yet. Had a mouth on her too. Would hear her running off at her older sister and her friends. Would watch her from my window sometimes. Like I said, she reminded me of Dawn."

"Anyway, there was this pimp, young, early twenties, sort of greasy, like one of those blokes in a boy-band that Dawn would have liked. The girl caught his fancy for some reason, kept trying to hit on her. Probably thought he could get her to fall in love with him and then turn tricks for him. Whatever his reasons, the girl wasn't having any of it. Whenever he'd try to talk to her on the street she'd ignore him. Didn't set well with the wanker, kept pushing at the girl."

"One night I'd left my place a little later than usual, was coming up an alley and walked up on him. The girl was there too, don't know what the bloody hell she was doing out that late, but he had her by the arm and was slapping her around. She was bleeding at the nose and mouth where he'd hit her and she was crying. I just couldn't walk away from it, Rupert, like I said she reminded me of Dawn. I was just going to rough him up a bit, run him out of the neighborhood, threaten him into not coming back. But the pillock had a razor, and he was fast with it, slashed me across the stomach quick like. If I'd been human I'd have dumped my guts out in that alley. Before he could cut me again I'd reached out and snapped his neck, with the girl standing right there seeing it all."

"So, I'm standing there, bleeding all over the place, the dead pimp at my feet, and the girl is looking at me with eyes the size of saucers with tears running down her face. And just you guess what happens next! Another bloody arsed priest walks around a corner and sees us standing there. The girl sees the priest an rushes into his arms, babbling the whole story out. The priest calms the girl down and takes her home. Her parents have a bloody screaming fit, half pissed as hell that she'd been out at night by herself, the other half carrying on over the girl seeing to it that she was alright. And me, I'm sitting up in my apartment, stitching up my stomach and pissed as hell that the wanker ruined a new shirt and got blood all over my pants."

"Watcher, let me tell you that vampire or not, having your stomach cut open hurts, and having to give yourself thirty stitches to close yourself up doesn't make it feel any better. So, between the pain and being piss off about the shirt and the blood, plus thinking about the girl and hoping she was alright, I wasn't really thinking about the consequences, cause the soul wasn't giving me any trouble about what I'd done. Next morning, just a couple of hours after I'd finally gone to sleep, there's a banging on my door. My head was fogged up from no sleep. I pulled the door open to see who was bothering me, thinking to chew someone's arse out for waking me up, and it's the priest and the gendarme. So, I'm standing there with no shirt on and thirty stitch's across my stomach and a wound that already looks half healed."

"Do you know those French words, Rupert, élan, savoir-faire? You know, being quick witted, always knowing what to do and what to say, but with style? Well I didn't have a clue what to do or say when I was standing there with that copper standing at my door. But that priest, he had élan and savoir-faire and a right proper line of bullshit too, more than anyone I've ever met before. He sees me standing there and the next thing I know he's carrying on to that gendarme about how inconsiderate they both were for not even thinking about how I'd been injured the night before, making me get out of my sick bed to come to the door when I should be resting. Started going on how I was a hero, saving a young girls life, risking my own to do it. How unfair it would be if I should have problems with the police, when in fact I'd been doing their very duty, protecting a young innocent from the predations of a vicious criminal. Before I knew it he's got the gendarme agreeing with him, nodding his head in sympathy, and assuring me that he will make sure that there aren't any problems over the death of the pimp. In fact, my name won't even have to go down on the report, because it's not as if anyone really cares about the death of a pimp who attacked a young girl. By the time that priest got finished, Rupert, if it were possible, I'm sure I'd of been blushing like a virgin on her wedding night."

Spike paused long enough to light up another cigarette and to take a large sip of scotch from his glass before he continued. "I should have known that wasn't going to be the end of it. People on the street started smiling at me, saying 'bon jour'. The priest, Father Boulard, he starts popping up, catching me on the street, wanting to walk with me, and talk. Let's me know right away that he knows what I am, starts asking questions about my soul, how I got it, where and when? I told him what I thought was safe, didn't go into any detail, just told him enough to convince him that I wasn't going to be feeding on the neighbors. Not that he seemed concerned about it. Pulled something out of his pocket one night and hands it to me. Didn't realize what it was at first, he'd handed me a silver cross. Dropped the bloody thing of course, then realized it hadn't burned me. The priest, he picks the cross up and offers it back to me, apologizes for shocking me, starts going on about what a mirical it was, that I must be blessed by God himself." Spike leaned forward in his chair, just enough to draw Giles full attention, then reaching up to his neck he pulled on a thin silver chain that had been hidden by his t-shirt and pulled out into the open where Giles could see it a small silver cross. "I wear this all the time now, Watcher" Spike said with a smirk on his lips. "Bloody things been blessed six ways to Sunday, doesn't hurt a bit."

If Spike had been expecting any kind of reaction from Giles, he was sadly disappointed. Giles barely glanced at the cross, as if a vampire wearing a cross around his neck was so common it was beneath notice. Instead his attention seemed focused on picking up a pack of cigarettes, extracting one from the pack, and lighting it. If Spike had known Giles better, he'd have known that Giles was a consummate liar when it came to showing what he was thinking or feeling on his face. Twenty-seven years as a Watcher had schooled him well in hiding his thoughts and feelings, when necessary. It was only the fact that Spike was to drunk, and to tired, to notice that Giles heartbeat had increased for several moments when he saw the cross. 

Feeling slightly disappointed at the lack of reaction from Giles, Spike downed the last of the scotch in his glass and then refilled it. He lit another cigarette, then settled back in his chair again. "It was about two weeks later, after giving me the cross, there was a knock on my door. I'd been out of town for about ten days on a job and I'd got in real late, just before sunup. I'd slept the whole day and it was almost sundown when the banging on the door woke me up. When I opened the door the priest, Boulard, was standing there, with three other priests. But they weren't just any old priest's, Watcher, they were from Rome, the Vatican. They come marching in, without an invite, mind you, and made themselves at home."

Spike made a snorting sound, like someone showing disgust with the whole situation. "I tried to get rid of them of course. Told them I had business to take care of, that I needed to see my agent, let him know I was back and to get paid for the job I'd just finished, that I needed to go out to feed, that I had important things to do, people to see. Didn't do any good of course. One of the priest from Rome opens up his briefcase and pulls out five stacks of Euros, a thousand Euros in each stack, and lays them on the table. He then pulls out two bags of blood, one human, the other was pigs blood. I picked up the pigs blood and took it into the kitchen to warm it up and drink, I hadn't fed since the day before, so I was hungry. When I came back into the living room, the money was still there, but the human blood was missing. I didn't know it at the time, but that blood choice I'd made was a test, the first of several."

Spike drank off the last of the scotch in his glass and started to refill it, only to find out that there was barely half a glass of scotch left. Lighting up another cigarette, he sat back in his chair again. "Now, Watcher, this is where your going to pull out a stack of bibles and swear on them that I'm lieing to you. These priest from the Vatican, they tell me they are willing to pay me a thousand Euros a day, just to talk to me. When they start talking, seems they know more about me and my soul than I do. They know about me showing up in Egypt, about going to Greece and about the sorcerer. They know I killed him, and about the knife. They told me that the knife was hidden now, where no one, human or demon would ever be able to find it or touch it again. They know about my travel through Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, all the way to Rome. They know more about what I did and where I went than even I can remember. One of them even went to Greece and talked to the priest in that village. He told them about the icon and what happened to it, how it broke the sorcerers spell, saved my unlife, how it changed, everything. They know about my hunting vampires and demons, for pay. Running off the bad elements, human and demon, in the neighborhood where I was living in Rome. And they knew about the priest I'd killed."

Spike downed the last of the scotch in his glass, then sat there looking at the empty glass. Giles pushed the bottle of bourbon sitting in front of him across the table toward Spike. There wasn't much left in the bottle, but hopefully there would be enough to satisfy him until he finished his story. Spike leaned over the table, grabbed up the bottle and poured the bourbon into his glass, about two thirds full. Lighting up another cigarette, Spike sat back in his chair again and started talking once more.

"Being a Watcher and part of the Council, I'm not real surprised that you heard about that priest I killed. But, did you ever wonder why a story like that never made it into the newspapers. You know the Italian newspapers, they love scandals and gory stories. Can't get much more scandalous or gory than a priest with his throat ripped out and messages written in blood on the walls. It seems the Vatican put the squash on it. Covered it up, real tight, even erased all the reports from the police files too. That priest, he was a bad one, real bad. I didn't know it, but in an upstairs room there were six little coffins. Five of them had the dried out bodies of little girls that he'd already killed in them. The sixth one was for the girl I rescued. Apparently he'd been killing little girls for years an had never been caught. But the Church couldn't let it get out that a priest had been doing the kidnapping and murders of little girls, so the covered the whole thing up and made the story and police reports just disappear, like they'd never happened."

"You know, Rupert, I never really understood why they told me all that, they didn't really have to tell me everything, I'd of never known the difference. Only thing I could ever think of was that they wanted me to trust them. They did say that for the public to know the truth of what happened, the priest killing those little girls, not me killing him, that the truth would have hurt more people than it was worth. I'm not sure I understand that way of thinking, but I didn't argue with them about it."

Spike took a small sip of the whiskey before continuing. "To make a long story shorter, the priests from the Vatican talked to me for five days. They had all kinds of things to say to me. Told me that my getting my soul was some kind of miracle that had been foretold in some bloody prophecy a couple thousand or more years old. That I was some kind of 'avenging angel' sent to bring justice against the wicked. That I was the 'protector of the innocent', children specifically. That what I'd written on that wall in Rome about the 'Blood of the Lamb' and the 'Hand of the Angel of Death', was confirmation of it. Bloody hell, Watcher, what I wrote on that wall was the souls doing, not mine. None of that shit they were spouting made a lot of sense to me. I was born and raised an Anglican, hadn't been to a service in over a hundred and twenty years, since before I was turned. To the best of my knowledge, soul or no soul, I'm still bound for hell when I meet my end. Redemption and salvation isn't something I ever expect to find."

Spike lit up another cigarette, then drank off half of the whiskey in his glass. Setting the glass down, he used that hand to rub his face. When he looked up at Giles his eyes were red and his face showed how tired he really felt. "But the thing of it is, Watcher, the soul was eating up what they were saying like it was candy or something. What is it that wanker Harris use to say …? Oh, yeah. My soul was 'doing a happy dance' inside my head, making me feel all warm and righteous like."

Drinking half of the whiskey left in his glass, Spike started talking again, his voice low and clearly showing how tired he was feeling. Reaching into his coat pocket, Spike pulled out the rosary that he'd shown Giles earlier. He tossed it up on the table where Giles could easily reach it. "That's when they gave me this. As far as I know the rosary is just a rosary, but look at the four medals on it. One is the Seal of the Archbishop of Athens, the one under it is the Seal of the Patriarch of Constantinople. On the other side, the top one is the Seal of the Bishop of Rome, that's the Pope, in case you didn't know. They had to tell me what it was. The last one is one of the special Seals of the Office of the Holy Inquisition. A specific office that was suppose to have been discontinued nearly two hundred years ago. Apparently the only thing discontinued about it is the public knowledge that it still exists. All four of those medals and the rosary have been blessed repeatedly. If you took that thing and held it against a normal vampire, he'd probably burst into flames immediately. But me, nothing happens."

Spike brought the glass of whiskey to his lips and emptied the glass, then set it down on the table. He picked up his pack of cigarettes and took the last one out, then lit it. With his eyes closed, he started talking. "So they spend five days telling me all this shit, give me the rosary, pack up and leave town. I should have known that wasn't the end of it. Three times since then, one of those priest has come to me, telling me about some 'sin against the lambs' and how they need 'retribution'. The priest never tells me what to do, or that I have to do anything at all. But after he's gone, the soul starts in on me, won't leave me be until I go do something about it."

"Three time they've come to me in the past eight months. Once I went to Spain and killed a warlock that was using young children to make blood sacrifices to gain dark powers. Nearly got myself killed doing that one. Took me over a week to heal up. Went up to Switzerland and killed a banker, he was offering his infant son for sale to a demon to pay off his debts. Saved the boy, killed the demon too. Thought it was a good idea, in case it got the idea to buy a kid from someone else. Last time I went out, went down to Cannes. Some half Arab shit was grabbing up young girls in the ports along the Riviera , eleven and twelve year olds. Taking them to Cannes where another shit was making child porn films with them, then taking them back across the Mediterranean and selling them to brothels in Sudan. Had them out on a freighter in the harbor. I boarded the ship after dark and killed everyone on board, eight of them, seven men and one woman. Loaded the five girls that were aboard onto a launch, set the boat on fire and left it to sink. Took the girls back to land and made sure that they all got back to their homes. Found a lot of cash on that boat and split it up amongst the girls for them and their families, least I could do for them. And just so you know, Watcher, the bloody soul was happy to have me kill everyone of those bloody fucks."

"Do you get that, Watcher. The same soul that tormented me for killing to many sheep in Greece to feed off when I was starving, didn't raise a qualm about the ten humans I've killed in the past eight months, or the three before them either. That priest in Paris, Father Boulard, tells me I'm fulfilling 'God's wishes' and blesses me for doing it. Those priest from Rome come to me and tell me about the 'innocent lambs', but don't do anything about the lambs themselves. And the soul makes me feel happy every time I kill one of those bloody fucks, but torments me if I even think about killing some worthless get who's selling drugs or robbing shopkeepers. Oh, it let's me knock them about, run them off and such, but it won't let me kill them. Explain that to me, Watcher. Why is it alright to kill some bloody bastard that's harming children, but it's not alright to kill someone that's selling drugs to their parents or robbing them?"

The anger, and frustration, that Spike was feeling was very apparent. As he sat there finishing his cigarette, the hand holding the cigarette was shaking slightly, while the other hand was fisted up tightly. It was only due to his level of intoxication and how tired he was that Spike was letting his emotions show so openly to Giles.

"So, that's it, Watcher, that's the story. I got a soul so I wouldn't be a soulless monster anymore. Now I'm a monster with a soul. A soul that 'wants' me to kill, as long as the humans I kill are harming children. I've got half of the Christian faith, the Greek Orthodox and the Roman Catholics, telling me I'm the 'wrath of god', the 'avenging hand of the angel of death', that I'm some kind of 'avenging angel' sent to exact 'retribution' from the sinners. So tell me, Rupert, what am I? Angel of God, or a monster with a soul, looking for a loophole just so I can kill? Am I a 'righteous killer' or still just a monster?"

Giles sat in his chair looking across the table at Spike for a full minute or more before speaking. As he studied Spikes face and body posture he was certain that he was reading true remorse and anguish. As much as Giles disliked Angel, loathe would be a mild expression of his feelings, he had admitted long ago that Angel was truly capable of anguish, guilt and remorse over his past soulless actions. Seeing Spike across the table from him, Giles felt almost compelled to tender the same acceptance of feelings in him. But, Spike seeking out a soul voluntarily, fulfilling a prophecy, acting as an agent of God? To much information to digest all at once. He needed time to think.

When Giles did speak, although his own exhaustion was evident in his voice, there was also a note of compassion. "At this very moment Spike, I can't tell you what I truly feel. I need time to think about it. I need to check some facts, call the Council Archives to see if they can find out anything about this prophecy, make arrangements for our flight to London tonight, a dozen other things, plus getting some sleep. If I decide your lying to me, I'll have you killed. If I decide your telling me the truth, but would still be a danger to Buffy at some time, I'll have you killed. But, if I decide that your telling me the truth and that you could be of help to Buffy, I'll let you continue to live."

Spike looked Giles in the eyes and could see that he'd meant exactly what he'd said. That Spikes future existence depended totally on whatever decision he made during the hours to come. But at this time, this very moment, Spike was to tired to care. With a tired smirk on his lips, Spike said "That's one of the things I've always liked about you, Rupert, you're a pragmatist. If I can be useful to you, you'll let me live. If I can't, you'll dust me. Must be part of that Ripper personality that comes out every once in awhile. Convenient that, being a cold blooded murderer when necessary. Pretending your not the rest of the time."

When Giles responded, there wasn't a trace of acrimony in his voice. "Yes, quite convenient, when necessary."

Spike pushed himself up onto his own feet and started collecting his personal belongings from the far side of the table where they had been sitting all evening, stuffing them in his pockets. "When are you going to tell me what the favor was that Buffy wanted from me" Spike asked at last.

Giles, using both hands on the table pushed himself up and onto his feet before answering. "I'll tell you tonight, after I've made my decision. But right now, I'm going to have Jennings bring you some blood, and set up a bed for you. If I decide not to kill you, and you decide to help Buffy, were both going to need some rest."

(10/05)

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	2. The Return Part 2

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The Return  
Part 2 - The Prodigal

The pain in his head was so intense that for several moments when he first woke up Spike thought the chip was firing off again. It took those moments for his memory to start working and make him realize what the pain was really all about. With a groan he rolled over in bed. It wasn't until it was too late that he remembered that he wasn't in a bed, he was laying on top of a table. With a thud, like a sack of wet sand, he dropped the thirty or so inches to the concrete floor. The pain of the impact was bad enough, but the pain in his head seemed to magnify it ten fold. For long minutes he laid there, hurting to much to even try to move again.

When the pounding in his head dropped from a thousand decibels to a mere one hundred, he dragged his hands under himself and slowly pushed himself up and back so that he could get to his knees. Cautiously reaching out he found the table, and using it for leverage pulled himself up to his feet. The room was pitch dark. Not remembering where the chairs were, Spike waved his hand out in front of him until he touched the back of one of them. He then used the chair to steady himself until he could move to the front of it and sit down. Leaning forward he placed his elbows on his knees and held his head between his hands.

As Spike sat there holding his head, the thought ran through his mind that he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten so drunk or hurt so bad. Then the memories came to him and he did remember, 'Sunnydale'. He use to get drunk like this back in Sunnydale all the time. He'd always been one to go on an occasional drunk, sometimes a major drunk. But that last year in Sunnydale, getting drunk like this had become a common occurrence. When he was trying to ease the pain, both physical and emotional, of his 'relationship' with Buffy, getting drunk was the only way he knew of to numb himself enough, to the point where he couldn't think, or dream. Spike pushed those thoughts and memories away.

Knowing that sitting like he was wasn't going to change the way he was feeling, Spike lifted his head from his hands and sat back in the chair. The darkness in the room was so complete that he couldn't make out anything. He thought about vamping out, to increase his senses, but knew that would only make his head hurt more. Instead he searched his pockets until he found his lighter. Closing his eyes to mere slits, he lit his lighter. Even that, the light from his lighter, made his eyes water and his head hurt. As his eyes adjusted to the light he looked around the room. He could see the switch for the overhead light, but wasn't willing to face that much pain yet. Instead he rose to his feet and walked on shaky legs over to a small desk lamp sitting on top of a filing cabinet. He turned his head away from the lamp and closed his eyes just before he turned it on. Cautiously he opened his eyes and let them adjust to the light. After a few moments, Spike started to look himself over and a snort of disgust escaped his lips.

When Spike had been smoking the night before he hadn't much cared about where the ashes from his cigarettes fell. Looking at himself now he could see that when he fell off the table he had apparently landed in the middle of them. His hands and cloths were covered with them, and most likely his face and hair. Spike tried to brush the dirt and ashes off his coat and pants, but only succeeded in making smears. Snorting again in disgust he gave up the effort. Spike had been dirtier than this thousands of times, but still it wasn't something he enjoyed, and besides, he didn't like the idea of looking like this in front of the Watcher and those other gets.

Still, if he wanted to clean up he was going to have to ask Giles or his men to do so. Spikes first thought was to go over to the door and just yank it open and demand that they allow him to use a shower, if this warehouse even had one, or the washroom at the very least. The thought of going into vamp face and scaring the hell out of whoever was on the other side of the door was appealing for a brief moment. Then caution and reality entered his thoughts and he stopped himself from doing it. Instead he walked over to the door and knocked on it loudly, then stepped back across the room to put distance between himself and the door.

When the door opened a few moments later, two men were standing on the other side of the doorway, both with tranq guns in their hands. One of the men he didn't recognize, the other was the get that had brought him human blood the night before. When the men saw that he had backed up across the room, they relaxed a little, but kept their fingers on the triggers of the guns.

When Spike spoke his voice was raspy, but steady "I need to clean up" he told them. "Need to feed too. Pigs blood, if you got it, cow or sheep will do."

The man Wilson blushed at the mention of pigs blood, but nodded his head. The other man said, "We'll bring you a bucket of hot water and soap, some towels too. How much blood do you want?"

Spike thought about it for a few moments before answering. He knew he needed to feed as well as possible to get rid of the hangover and to make his body stop hurting. "Could do a quart, two if you've got it?"

The man Wilson spoke next, "We've got a two liter bottle of pigs blood. Do you want it hot or cold?"

"Just warm it up, body temperature will be just fine" Spike said, then let a grin spread across his lips.

Both Wilson and the other man seemed to blanch a bit, but nether of them said anything. Wilson reached out and taking the doorknob pulled the door shut. Spike stared at the closed door for several moments, then shrugged his shoulders.

Taking his coat off, he laid it on the table. He then removed his shirt and the t-shirt under it. Holding the t-shirt up to his nose he gave it a sniff. Being a vampire, he didn't perspire, so it wasn't as if he had to worry much about body odor. But still, wearing anything for to long it tended to pick up a musky smell. The t-shirt didn't smell to bad, and besides, it wasn't like he had a choice about what to wear. Laying the shirt and t-shirt over the back of the chair, Spike stood there for several moments not knowing what to do with himself next. He walked over to the filing cabinet, where the desk lamp was sitting and picked up the opened pack of cigarettes that was sitting there. Pausing for just a moment, he picked up the unopened pack of cigarettes too. No sense letting them go to waste, was there, and slipped them into his pants pocket. Going back over to the table he searched his coat pockets until he found his lighter, then lit a cigarette.

Spike was still standing at the table when there was a tap on the door, then the door swung open. Wilson was standing there with a bucket of steaming water, a washcloth and a towel. The other man that had been with Wilson before was standing behind him with his tranq gun in his hand. Spike backed away from the table several feet. Wilson entered the room and set the bucket, washcloth and towel on the table. He then backed up toward the door. When he reached the door, Wilson said, "Were warming the blood up slowly, don't want to cook it, should be ready in a few minutes."

Spike nodded his head in acknowledgement, but didn't say anything. When Wilson pulled the door closed behind him, Spike walked back to the table and picked up the washcloth. Wrapped inside the cloth was a bar of soap. Spike gave the soap a sniff and was pleased that it didn't have some kind of flowery smell to it, more like a woodsy smell. Using the soap he first washed his hands, then using the washcloth and soap he worked up a lather and washed his face, arms, and upper body. He rinsed the cloth out twice, then wiped himself down again, then rinsed and wiped again. Using the towel he dried himself off. He then wet his fingers and combed them through his hair. Under the circumstances, Spike figured he'd done the best he could to make himself presentable. His next step was to try to clean up his cloths a bit. The shirt and t-shirt were fine, they'd been covered up by his coat. He used the damp washcloth and started rubbing at the dirt and ashes on his pants, removing the worst of it. He then rinsed the cloth out and spreading his coat out on the table started wiping it down. Being a waterproof, the majority of the dirt and ash came off easily.

As Spike cleaned his coat the memory of his old leather duster came to mind. He knew that he'd left it in Sunnydale, but couldn't remember for sure where, he'd been pretty messed up the night he left town. He felt certain that it was long gone, probably burned to ashes by Buffy, or one of her Scoobies, no doubt. But still he missed it. He'd had that coat for twenty-five years and had loved it as his prized possession. He'd hand sewn new linings into it a half dozen or more times and had spent hundreds of hours with the finest surgical threads and needles stitching up the holes, cuts and tears it had received over the years of fighting. He'd worked the most expensive leather oils he could steal, or buy when necessary, into the leather to make it soft and pliable. Most people, without a close study, would have never been able to detect all the work he had put into the coat to keep it whole.

Yeah, he really did miss it sometimes. Of course, whenever he thought about the coat, his soul reminded him of how he got it, by killing a Slayer, and made him feel guilty. But still, it had been one 'glorious' fight with that Slayer, and one 'bloody hell' of a trophy. He missed the coat, and if a guilty conscience for how he got it was the price of remembering it, it was a small price compared to the guilt he felt over so many other deeds. After his first good paying contract in Rome, he'd gone out and bought himself a new leather duster. But when it got torn up in a fight with a couple of demons, it just wasn't the same as the old duster, it just wasn't worth the time and effort to patch it up again. After that, he just started wearing waterproofs. They weren't the same, but he wasn't the same anymore either. It was probably just as well anyway, he'd gone through nearly a dozen waterproofs in the past two years and they were easier to replace than to try to patch them up.

Spike was still ruminating over his lost duster, while he wiped down the waterproof, when there was a tap on the door. When the door opened this time, Wilson walked into the room without waiting for him to back away. The other man was still at the doorway with his gun, but he wasn't pointing it at Spike this time. Wilson set a second bucket on the table, and a large mug. The bucket was half full of steaming water and submerged in the water was a bottle of blood.

Spike stepped over to the chair and picking up his t-shirt slipped it on. He then picked up his shirt and slipped it on too, but didn't bother to button it up. Wilson had backed away from the table a few feet, but hadn't left the room. Spike reached into the bucket and lifted the bottle of blood from the water. That's when Wilson spoke to him, "We kept running hot water over the bottle, until it got to what we thought would be the right temperature. Didn't really know how else to do it without cooking it?"

Spike felt the warmth of the bottle in his hand and looking over at Wilson gave him a real smile, without any hint of acrimony in it. "That was real nice of you mate" Spike told him, "thanks a lot." Spike then opened the bottle and poured blood into the mug.

A slight blush came to Wilson's face as he spoke, "Yeah, well, sorry about last night."

Spike knew he was referring to the mess with the human blood the night before and nodded his head in acknowledgement of the apology. It wasn't often that someone gave that kind of courtesy to him, he wasn't about to throw it back in their face. When Spike picked up the mug and brought it to his lips to drink the blood, Wilson quickly backed out of the room. 'Guess there's some things humans never can get use to' Spike thought to himself as he drank the first mug of blood down quickly. By the time he'd finished the second mug of blood, the headache from the heavy drinking was gone. By the time he finished the bottle, he felt fit enough to go out and kick a couple Fyarl demons arses just to burn off the excess energy he was feeling.

Of course, now that he had all this energy he was getting antsy with waiting around for the Watcher to show up and tell him if he was going to dust him or not. Spike knew that the soul wouldn't let him kill, or even injure seriously, Giles or his men. Not that he really wanted to anyway. But he sure as hell didn't want to die either. Besides that, Buffy wanted something from him, a favor, and he'd be damned twice over before he'd die without finding out what she wanted. So, having no other way to burn off energy and tension, Spike started pacing the floor and smoking cigarette after cigarette.

The air was thick with smoke and Spikes pacing had become even more agitated, when suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. He heard a noise outside the door. Listening closely he could hear the heart beats of six people. That would be Giles and his men, all of them. If Giles was showing up with all his men at once, it probably meant that Spike wasn't going to be leaving the room on his feet, more likely in a dust pan. Spike moved to the end of the table, putting it between him and the doorway. Maybe, just maybe, he could flip it up on end and use it as a shield to protect him from the first shots, then rush the group and break his way through to freedom. He let his senses reach out further and realized that it was probably at least an hour before sundown, which limited how far he could escape. He could stand there and let himself be dusted, or run out into the sun and be dusted anyway. Spike chose to light another cigarette and to lean casually against a filing cabinet as if he didn't have a concern in the world. He was damned if he was going to show fear to any of these wankers.

When the door finally opened, Giles was the first to walk into the room. His first reaction was to start waving his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke away. When he spoke, his words actually sent a wave of relief through Spike that he desperately hoped he was able to conceal. "Bloody hell, Spike! Just because you don't need to breath doesn't mean the rest of us don't."

Spike let a smirk cross his lips for a moment, then said "Sorry about that, Rupert. Small room, nothing else to do."

Giles continued on into the room and walked over near Spike. Wilson and the other man that had been with him before followed Giles into the room. Neither one of them was carrying their weapons. Wilson collected the washcloth, soap, towel, mug and empty blood bottle. The other man picked up the two buckets. They both turned and left the room, leaving the door open behind them. Neither Jennings, nor the other two men came into the room, they appeared to be packing up equipment in the other room.

With the door open the smoke in the air had thinned out and Spike was able to see Giles clearly. He had obviously washed and shaved and had changed his clothing, but the weariness that laid across his face was clear to read. Spike didn't make any comment on how Giles looked, he said instead "I'm gathering by what's going on that I'm not going to be turned into a pile of dust, and that I'm free to go?"

Giles straightened his shoulders, looked Spike in the eyes, then spoke. "Yes, Spike, you are free to go. After I give you the message from Buffy. If you still want to leave, we won't stop you." Reaching inside his coat, Giles withdrew a small white envelope and handed it to Spike.

Spike looked at the envelope, turning it to see both sides. There wasn't anything written on the outside. Using one finger he broke the seal and opened it, then withdrew a small piece of folded paper. Hesitating for several seconds, he unfolded the paper, in Buffys hand writing was written:

Spike,

Dawn needs you. Please, come home.

Buffy

Spikes hand started shaking as he read the message again. Stepping away from Giles he turned his back to him. His head bowed forward and tears came to his eyes. Reading that Dawn needed him for some reason shook him to his very foundation. He had also noticed immediately that Buffy had underlined the word 'Please'. In all the years that Spike had known Buffy he was certain that she had never said that word, 'Please', to him before. That word alone told him that whatever the situation was, it was serious, very serious. The words 'come home' rang a different note within him. Pain, sorrow, guilt, remorse, passed through him in waves, bringing more tears to his eyes. With his back still to Giles, his voice choked with emotions he could not hold back, Spike asked "What's wrong with the Niblet, Rupert? What she needs me to do?"

Giles hesitated for a few moments, he could see by Spikes reaction to the message that he was deeply affected. When he spoke his voice was gentle, but firm. "First, I need to know if your going to come back with me to Sunnydale? The situation is very complicated and can't be explained in a few minutes. I promise that I will tell you everything, once we are on the plane to London."

When Spike turned back to Giles, his tears were clearly visible on his face. With one hand he wiped them away. He then slipped the note back into the envelope, then placed the envelope into his shirt pocket. Moving past Giles he picked his coat up off the table and slipped it on. "Okay, Watcher, if that's the way you want it, we'd better be leaving."

Taken by surprise by Spikes urgency to leave, Giles said quickly "We can't leave yet. The sun won't be down for at least another thirty or forty minutes and the plane doesn't leave until an hour later."

"You've got a blanket around here, right? I can cover up with that, so we can leave now. We've got to make a stop first anyway, I need to pick up my things at the convent" Spike said as he walked out of the room.

Taken by surprise again, Giles followed Spike out of the room. His voice a little sharper than he intended, Giles said "Spike, what the bloody hell are you talking about, what convent?"

Stopping in the middle of the room, Jennings and the others were all present, finishing up their own packing, Spike turned back to Giles. "Look, Rupert, I told you I do work for the Church, sometimes. Whenever I travel, if there's a good sized church, monastery or convent around, I stay in one. Saves on travel expenses, cuts down on questions at hotels, provides me a safe place to stay where the average person wouldn't think of looking for me. My travel bag, cloths, passport, papers, money, their all at the convent. I need to pick them up, plus send a message back to Paris, to Father Boulard. He'll let the Vatican blokes know where I've gone. He'll also look after my things in Paris, if I'm gone that long."

Being totally nonplused, Giles babbled out "Your staying at a convent?"

With an amused smirk spreading across his face, Spike replied "Yeah, most of the Sisters are right good company, and the Mother Superior, she's a right card shark when it comes to Whist." The shocked looks on Giles and the other men's faces was a treasure to behold. With a big smile on his face and a glint in his eyes, Spike added "What's the matter, Watcher? I told you I'm one of the 'white hats' now a days!"

The trip to the convent didn't take very long. Introducing Giles to the Mother Superior, collecting his things, writing a note to Father Boulard, only took a little longer. It had already turned dark as they were getting ready to leave, but the Mother Superior stopped them at the door and insisted on blessing Spike and his journey before he could go. Giles was impressed, but his men were almost in a state of shock. None of them had been in the room the night before, so none of them had known about his new immunity to Crosses, Holy Water, and Blessings. Jennings was the only one who didn't have his mouth hanging open. Jennings was to old and to jaded to be shocked by much of anything. But he did look at Spike with a higher degree of respect afterwards.

By the time they got to the airport it was only ten minutes before the scheduled takeoff. Being a private plane, and due to Giles 'Council' connections, they didn't even have to go through Customs. A man met them at the plane, stamped all of the proper papers, and didn't ask any questions. As soon as they were all on board and seated, the plane taxied out onto the runway and left the ground on time. The plane was owned by the Council and could carry up to twelve passenger, plus it had a fairly large cargo area at the rear of the plane behind a bulkhead. Giles had Jennings and his men take the seats farthest to the front, while he motioned Spike to move to the seats farthest to the rear. The distance between them, plus the noise of the plane was a fairly good guarantee that the conversation that Spike and Giles were about to have would not be over heard by anyone.

Being a private plane, the seating wasn't set up like a typical passenger carrier. There were eight seats, set two, side by side, on each side of a narrow passageway, making up two rows of seats. Behind these seats was a small galley for preparing meals in-flight. Past the galley was a small area with two seats facing each other on each side of the passageway. At the back of the cabin, up against the bulkhead, was a lavatory. The bulkhead had a pressurized door that led into the cargo area that made up the rear half of the airplane. When Spike had entered the rear seating area he noticed immediately that there were large ashtrays built into the walls between the facing seats and that there were small exhaust fans built in to draw the smoke out of the cabin. Spike thought to himself that this area was probably normally used by Council members to have private conversations and smoke their cigars. Not asking for permission, Spike pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one up as he took a seat. Giles took the seat facing him and made no comment, except to turn on the exhaust fan.

Although Spike wanted Giles to start telling him what was going on, why Dawn needed him, as soon as they sat down. Giles refuse to do so. He told Spike that he had to fill him in on some background information first. Information that started with his leaving Sunnydale. Just hearing this, that the story started with his leaving Sunnydale had Spikes soul squirming. A muscle in his cheek started to twitch as he clamped his jaws tightly together.

As the plane lifted off and gained altitude, Giles sat in his seat, fidgeting. Watching Giles squirm in his seat, preparing himself to speak, then stopping, then almost starting again, had Spike on edge. Hoping it would help, and get things moving, Spike reached back into his pocket and pulling out his cigarettes and lighter set them on the edge of the large ashtray. Giles hesitated for a few moments, then reaching out withdrew a cigarette from the pack and used the lighter to light it. Sitting back in his seat he let the cigarette calm his nerves for a few moments before he started speaking.

"Almost immediately after you left Sunnydale things started happening, horrendous things." Seeing Spikes eyes widening, Giles quickly added "None of which were your fault, nor do I think, could or would have been changed by your presence." Pausing for a few moments to take another draw off his cigarette, Giles then continued. "There was a small group of humans, they fancied themselves to be 'Super Villains', that wanted to become rich and powerful in Sunnydale. For whatever reasons they had, they felt that Buffy would be an obstacle to their goals. Possibly because they used a mixture of science and magic, and could also raise demons to do their bidding. The leader of their group was a misogynistic bastard that had previously murdered his former girlfriend and through the use of magic had convinced Buffy for a short period of time that she had killed the girl."

Hearing Giles words brought to memory the girl and circumstances that Giles was speaking of immediately. They also brought forth the memory of what happened when Spike had tried to stop Buffy from turning herself into the police and confessing that she had killed the girl. Buffy had beaten him to a bloody broken pulp and had left him in an alley to die when the sun came up. If it hadn't been for a demon that thought it owed Spike a small favor, dragging his body down the alley and tossing him down a stairwell which kept him out of the rising sun, he'd have dusted for certain. Spike had laid at the bottom of that stairwell all day and well into the night, to hurt to move. By the time he was able to drag himself up the stairwell and back to his crypt it was nearly morning again. The pain of that memory, Buffy walking away, leaving him to die, had haunted Spikes dreams on numerous occasions.

Seeing the pained look in Spikes eyes at the mention of the girls death and how Buffy had been tricked into thinking she had killed the girl, Giles misinterpreted the reasons for the pain in Spikes eyes. "It turned out alright Spike" Giles said gently, "at least that part of it anyway. Apparently, Buffy discovered almost immediately after arriving at the police station who the girl was and realized that she hadn't been the one responsible for her death." Giles paused for a few moments before he continued. "I had thought that you were still in Sunnydale when that part of this story occurred. Perhaps I'm mistaken?"

"No, Watcher, your not mistaken" Spike said, his voice raspy with suppressed emotions. "I was still there. The Slayer didn't always fill me in on the little things though, didn't like me in her business."

"Yes, well, um." Giles paused, his mind turning over what he had just said to Spike and Spikes response. Giles knew a great deal about the relationship Buffy had with Spike during that period of time. In fact, much more than he had ever wanted to know. But it came to him right then that there were many things he didn't know. Things that might be important. But this wasn't the time to go into them. There were more important things to discuss at the moment. But, he told himself, he should remember to question Buffy about it later.

"Ah, yes, to continue." Giles paused again, looking at Spike he could see that he was under a lot of stress and decided to make a long story shorter. "Spike, I could spend hours telling you all the details of this story, but at this time I don't think you would really be interested it them. What I'm going to do is give you the brief, condensed version, for now. I promise you that I will fill in the details later and answer any questions you might have, if that is agreeable to you?"

"Yeah, sure Watcher" Spike said, his voice showing his stress clearly. "Just get to the part about Dawn, will you?"

Giles then proceeded to tell Spike that just a day or two after his leaving Sunnydale, Buffy was able to thwart a robbery by this group of human villains and captured two of it's members. The leader, Warren, was able to make his escape. Seeking revenge he bought a gun and shot Buffy, wounding her. A wild shot struck Tara and killed her. Willow was able to save Buffy, but because of her overwhelming grief over the loss of Tara, Willow went 'crazy' and sought revenge. Using the powers of 'dark magic' Willow hunted Warren down and killed him. She then went after Warrens accomplices, who were in jail and had nothing to do with the death of Tara. Buffy got them out of the jail and away from Willow. Needing more power, Willow sought out a 'dark magic' dealer by the name of Rack and sucked all of his magic out of him, killing him. She then proceeded to nearly destroy the Magic Box, attempted to kill Xander and Warrens two accomplices, threatened to kill Dawn, tried to kill Buffy, and was only stopped from doing all of these things by the intervention of Anya casting a spell over and over so that Willow couldn't use her full powers. Giles then told of his arrival, how the witches in the coven at Devon had felt the disturbance and had given him powers to fight Willow. Even so, Willows powers were greater and she nearly killed Giles, but decided to destroy the world instead. It was only by the intervention of Xander that the world wasn't destroyed. Somehow he was able to talk Willow back to 'sanity' and her 'dark powers' drained out of her.

Spike listened to everything Giles said to him and was able to hold on to his control of himself, mainly because he was able to realize that whatever had happened, had occurred almost three year previously. Although learning of the death of Tara had brought pain to his heart, he'd always liked the gentle witch, Spike knew that everyone else had survived. Knowing this made it possible for him to keep his face blank, hiding his feelings and emotions from Giles.

Giles had watched Spike closely as he told him what had occurred shortly after he'd left Sunnydale. Spikes lack of response puzzled him. But, seeing no other choice, he continued with his narrative. He told Spike that with Willows powers drained, they sedated her, and as soon as Giles was able to travel he took Willow to England. There in Devon the witch's coven helped her with her grief and taught her how to control her powers and not let her powers control her. Giles remained in England and provided support for Willow. By the time they returned to Sunnydale, problems between Dawn and Buffy had grown up and were nearly insurmountable.

Apparently, with Willow gone, Anya refusing to have anything to do with him, and Buffy spending long hours working and patrolling, Xander was feeling exceptionally lonely. One night he came by Buffys home before she got off work, thinking he could go on patrol with her and was talking with Dawn while he waited. Dawn had been feeling the loss of so many people out of her life, her mother, Tara, Willow, Giles, Anya, and Spike. Somehow in her talk with Xander she expressed the wish that Spike would return, because she missed him. Xander, not thinking, blurted out that Spike was never going to return, not if he wanted to continue to exist. Dawn jumped on Xanders remark, declaring that Spike was her best friend. Xanders anger overstepped his good sense, he started ranting about Spike being a soulless monster that should have been dusted years ago, because if he had, he'd never have had the chance to try to rape Buffy.

Spikes reaction, to Giles last words, was devastation. His eyes widened as they filled with pain, his mouth dropped open and a wail of anguish filled the cabin. He lurched up out of his seat, stumbling forward on legs of rubber until he reached a corner of the cabin. He collapsed to his knees, bent over with his face into the corner, his arms wrapped up around his head. Low sobs and moaning sounds filled the air.

Jennings and his men responded to Spikes wail of pain and rushed to the rear of the airplane cabin to investigate. Giles headed them off and quietly sent them back to their seats after assuring them he was safe. Giles took the seat that Spike had been sitting in so that he could keep his eyes on him. Only once before had Giles seen Spike so overwhelmed by grief, when Buffy leapt from the tower and died. It was as if Giles had deliberately destroyed the last vestige of something precious before Spikes very eyes. The pain of the loss seemed to have broken Spike open, allowing his grief to spill out onto the floor for all to see.

For the rest of the flight from Germany to England, Spike remained in the corner, crying out his pain. Even after the plane landed, he remained in the corner. Giles approached him reluctantly and gently touched his shoulder. When Spike stiffened under the touch, Giles withdrew his hand. Speaking quietly, he said "Spike, the clean-up crew will be coming aboard shortly, to prepare the plane for another flight. We need to leave now, before they arrive."

Spike nodded his head slightly and pushed himself away from the corner. Turning his face toward Giles, he asked, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. "How could he do that, Watcher? How could he tell her like that, I though he cared for her?" Spike paused, sucking in several deep breaths. "Does she hate me Rupert? Does she hate me for what I did, what I tried to do?"

When Spike turned his face toward him, Giles almost gasped. Spikes face looked gray and drawn, he looked as if he had aged twenty years. Tear tracks marred his face, his eyes were red and puffy, emotional pain radiated off of him in waves. Glancing down at Spikes hands, Giles could see that they were fisted so tightly that the bones stood out, the muscles in his forearms were ridged like twisted ropes. Realizing that what he was about to say could save or destroy Spike, Giles chose his words carefully. "Spike, of all of us involved in this drama, Dawn still loves and trusts you, above all others. Dawn loves and trusts you, Spike. Believe me, I swear it's true. She also needs you very badly right now. She needs your strength and your courage, but most of all, she needs you to make her feel safe again."

Hearing the first words Giles spoke was like a balm to Spikes soul. Hearing the rest of what he said told Spike that something worse was yet to come. That Dawn needed 'him' to make her feel 'safe again' brought forth every protective feeling within him. If Dawn needed him, if she needed his strength and courage, if she needed anything from him at all, he would give everything within him to her, for her, even his life. Bringing his hands to his face, Spike scrubbed at his face with his fingers, wiping away his tears. He placed one hand against the wall and using it for balance rose to his feet. Taking in deep breaths he brought himself under control of his emotions. Twisting his head until his neck popped, then shaking his head vigorously, like a dog shaking off water, Spike fought his way to full control of himself. Giving his shoulders a shake to settle himself, Spike looked over at Giles and with a blank, emotionless face, asked "There's worse to come, right Watcher?"

Giles nodded his head to Spike, then said "Much worse, Spike. I will tell you the important parts as soon as we get off this plane and find a place to sit down. I will give you all of the details, as I know them, when you want them."

Spike led the way off the plane and as soon as they hit fresh air he lit a cigarette. The plane, not being a regular commercial airliner, wasn't parked with the other commercial planes, it was parked in front of a private hangar owned by the Council. Spike followed Giles across the tarmac into the hangar, through a door, down a hallway, through another door and into an empty office. Spike had barely sat down and Giles had yet to move behind the desk and take a seat when there was a knock on the door. Giles went back to the door and opening it found Jennings standing there with two hot steaming mugs in his hands. "Tea, Sir? Thought you might like some about now."

"Why, yes Jennings. Thank you very much." Giles responded, taking one of the mugs of tea from Jennings.

Jennings stepped into the room and facing toward Spike lifted the second mug into his view. "You, Sir? A cuppa might do you right well, pick you up in no time."

Spike appreciated the offer, especially from Jennings. Jennings was an old Council hand and, unless he was ordered to do so, for him to offer Spike anything but a wooden stake to the heart meant something. "Yes, thank you." Spike mumbled out, still to emotionally drained to make proper conversation.

While Spike was taking sips of tea from his mug, Jennings talked to Giles. "If it's alright with you, Sir, unless you need them for something else, I'll be sending the men on home now. I'll have them drop your baggage off at the main terminal first, then let them go."

"Well, yes Jennings, that would be fine." Giles responded. "You can go to if you want, there's no reason for you to stay any longer than necessary."

"No Sir, I'll stay with you till your on the plane. Keep track of time, fetch more tea, see that you head off to the terminal on schedule " Jennings replied. Then turning in place he marched out the door and closed it behind him.

Spike smiled wearily at Giles and said, "Treats you a bit like a junior officer, afraid you'll get lost without him to hold your hand."

Giles returned Spikes smile, his own just as weary. He carried his mug over to the desk and sat down in the chair behind it. Taking a few small sips of the hot tea, he let the warmth spread through him. After sitting for at least a full minute, Giles looked up to see Spikes eyes focused on him, waiting.

Taking a breath, then letting it out, Giles picked up the story where he had left off. Xander had blurted out what Spike had tried to do to Buffy. Dawn refused to believe him and was yelling at him, calling him a liar, telling him to get out of her house. That's when Buffy walked into the house. Dawn confronted her immediately and demanded that she call Xander a liar. When Buffy wouldn't say anything, to confirm or deny what Xander had said, Dawn called her a 'Bitch' and ran up to her room. Buffy confronted Xander, telling him he'd had no right to say anything to Dawn, that he didn't know what happened and it wasn't any of his business anyway. Buffy told him to leave her home, then went up to try to talk to Dawn.

Dawn had her door locked that night and refused to talk to Buffy. The next morning she left the house early and went to her school and signed up for a full load of summer school classes. For the rest of the summer, Dawn spent all of her time either at school or in her room. She refused to speak to Buffy unless forced to, and refused to call her Buffy, calling her 'Bitch' or 'Slayer' instead. Apparently Buffy got tired of this and confronted Dawn. Losing her temper she grabbed Dawn by the arm and shook her. Dawn screamed in her face and asked Buffy if she was going to use her Slayer powers and beat her up, like she'd beat Spike up. Buffy had let her go and Dawn stormed off to her room. When Dawn had her birthday later that summer, Buffy bought her an expensive gift she couldn't really afford, Dawn threw it at her without even looking at it. The relationship between the two of them only got worse after that.

Giles had kept his eyes on Spike to see how he was reacting to this information. By looking at Spikes face it would have been impossible to register any effect at all. But Giles noticed that Spike was gripping his tea mug with enough strength to make the bones and muscles in his hand stand out.

The new high school, rebuilt on the same spot as the old high school, right over the Hellmouth, opened that school year. Dawn signed up for extra classes that year and continued to spend as much time as possible either at school or in her room. Anya had the repairs to the Magic Box completed that summer and reopened the store. She was also back in business as a vengeance demon. Xander was cut off from everyone he cared about and spent all of his time working long hours, even taking contracts outside of Sunnydale. Buffy quit her job at the Double Meat Palace and got a job as a waitress. She was working less hours, but with tips was making more money. With the start of a new semester at UC-Sunnydale, Buffy signed up for one class to continue her education. Everyone was going their own way, no one was talking to each other, by the time Giles brought Willow back to Sunnydale the situation was almost irreparable.

Giles told Spike it had only taken him two days to realize what a deplorable situation everyone was in and to confront Buffy on what was going on. In an emotion filled session lasting four hours, Buffy told Giles all that had happened since he had left for England with Willow, and then all that had happened with Spike from the time she returned from her grave until Spike left town. She told him how she had used Spike to make herself feel something after her return, but had physically and emotionally abused him whenever he tried to express his feelings for her. She told him how Spike had come to her to apologize for hurting her by having sex with Anya. How she had turned her anger on him, flaying him with her words. How he had grabbed hold of her, begging her to admit that there was something between them, that she had some feelings for him. How the situation had gotten out of hand and Spike had tried to force himself on her. How she had stopped him, and how she had torn him to emotional shreds, sending him running from her home, and Sunnydale. How Xander had found her sitting on the bathroom floor and had immediately assumed that Spike had raped her, or had attempted to rape her. Which is what led up to Xander telling Dawn, which led to Dawn not talking to any of them, and blaming Buffy for everything.

There were other things that Buffy had told Giles that day, and several times later. But none of those things were his business to share with Spike. As Buffy had said many times, what happened between her and Spike was their business and no one else's. If Buffy ever chose to share these things with Spike, that would be her choice and her business.

Giles told how he had counseled Buffy that she needed to tell all these things to Dawn and make her understand what had happened, or she would loose any possibility of a reconciliation with Dawn. Buffy had pleaded that she couldn't tell Dawn, that she was to young to be told such things. Giles had reminded Buffy that Dawn was the same age she was when she came to Sunnydale as the Slayer, became romantically involved with a vampire, and died the first time. Reluctantly Buffy had agreed to tell Dawn, if Giles would talk to her first.

Giles explained how he had first gone to Dawn and explained to her about the relationship between Spike and Buffy, then Buffy had joined them and reluctantly filled in some of the details. How Dawn had moderated her behavior and attitude toward Buffy after their conversation, she stopped calling Buffy 'Bitch' and 'Slayer', but still held her mostly responsible for Spike leaving Sunnydale. The one thing that Dawn had refused to moderate was her feelings and attitude toward Xander. In the nearly three years since Xander had told her that Spike had tried to rape Buffy, Dawn had refused to talk to him or to allow him to talk to her. Dawn had closed a door on Xander, and locked it behind her.

Giles went on to tell Spike that Dawn had continued to carry on with her studies, taking extra classes each year and attending summer school each summer. By the previous fall, Dawn had completed all of her high school studies and graduated in December. She had also carried such a high grade point average that she earned a full scholarship to UCLA, that began in January of this year. Two days after the New Year started, Giles had driven Dawn up to the UCLA campus and had helped her move into her assigned dorm room. Dawn was excited and looking forward to her new life at college and away from Sunnydale and the Hellmouth.

Spike had been listening to Giles intently as he told him about Dawn and how she had reacted to the news of his attempted rape of Buffy. Having Giles tell him earlier that Dawn didn't hate him for what he'd tried to do to Buffy had eased his soul to a great degree. But hearing that Dawn had blamed Buffy for what happened brought much of the pain back. That he was the cause of this rift between them burned into his soul. Spike had relived that night a thousand times, over and over again, and he could never make himself blame Buffy for what had happened. He could only blame himself, and the 'monster' within him. He had told Buffy that he loved her, and even though he had never said the words outright, he had implicitly promised that he would never hurt her. The fact that he had let the 'monster' within him take over, even if it was only for a few crazed moments, and let it hurt her, that was what drove Spike away from Buffy. He had seen it in her eyes that night, her hate, her anger, her fear. In all the years that Spike had known Buffy, even when they were trying to kill each other, she had never been afraid of him. She knew he was dangerous, she respected his potential as an enemy, but she had never been afraid. And in one moment, while declaring his love for her he'd tried to force her to love him, and had made her afraid of him. It was the fear in her eyes that drove him away, the fear that haunted his dreams, the fear that burned his soul every time he thought of her.

Learning that Dawn had cut the 'whelp' out of her life had given Spike a brief moment of satisfaction. But his conscience, if not his soul, gave him a twinge. As much as he had always disliked Harris, Spike felt bad that he had been the reason for the breaking up of their friendship. He knew that friendship had been important to Dawn at one time. That Dawn would stay mad at him for so long, to never forgive him, there must be more to the story than Giles had told him.

Hearing how well Dawn had done in school, graduating early, earning a scholarship, made Spike feel proud of her. Not that he had a right to feel that way, it wasn't as if he'd had anything to do with it. But still, the pride was there, and even his soul didn't begrudge him that small feeling.

But Giles had stopped talking now. He was sitting with his head bowed, staring at his hands, hands that were clenched together. Spike knew that the crux of the story, the reason that Dawn needed him was at hand. He could tell that Giles was stalling, or maybe not stalling, just reluctant, afraid, to tell the story to the end.

Taking his cigarettes out of his pocket, Spike lit one up. He then tossed the pack and lighter onto the desk in front of Giles. Steeling himself, locking his emotions down tight, Spike watched Giles as he fumbled a cigarette out of the pack and lit it up. "This is it, right Watcher?" Spikes voice was tight and raspy. "Something happened to Dawn? This is what it's all about, why you came for me?" When Giles lifted his head to look at Spike, the pain in his eyes was like a blade of molten steel cutting Spike open. Spike swallowed down his fear and nearly choking on the words, said "Tell me, Watcher, tell me the worst of it."

Giles took a final pull on his cigarette and stubbing it out in the ashtray, steeled himself before he spoke. "Dawn was drugged, abducted, beaten and raped for three days, before she escaped."

The last words were still in Giles mouth when Spike lurched to his feet. His arms and hands reached up, as if to heaven, his hands clenched into fists, and a roar of pain so profound, so soulful, tore from his lungs. He stood there shaking, trembling, tears flowing from his unseeing eyes. His eyes turned a burning shade of gold, his features morphed, his fangs extended, a vampire in a full blood rage emerged. Death stood in that room, roaring with pain, crying for love.

When the door slammed open and Jennings entered with his taser in his hand, Giles stepped quickly from behind his desk and prevented him from using it. Giles pushed him back toward the door and told him urgently to go find something to drink, anything, one bottle, two bottles, whatever he could find, but as quickly as possible. Spike hadn't even been aware of Jennings entering the room or of Giles moving from behind his desk. Spike was so far lost in the pain he was feeling he wasn't aware of anything else but the pain. He would have roared again, but he was to far gone to draw air into his lungs. He would have killed anything that moved in front of him, but his eyes were unseeing. Thoughts of rage would have consumed him, but his mind was to filled with pain to think.

Several minutes had passed, Giles wasn't sure how many, when Jennings rushed back through the door. He had one half full bottle of something in one hand and a full bottle of something else in the other. Giles grabbed the full one and started stripping the seal off. Jennings was speaking while he did this. "Those were on the plane, Sir. Do you want me to get more? Should I stay with you, Sir?"

"No, no Jennings, go get more, whatever you can, but do it quickly." Giles said in a rush. "I should have prepared for this, I don't know what I was thinking."

Jennings set the half full bottle on the desk, then turned and hurried from the room. Giles got the cap off the bottle he was holding, then cautiously moved toward Spike. Giles was greatly afraid that Spike might be to far gone to recognize him and might lash out at him in his pain and rage. But Giles also knew that he couldn't leave Spike standing there like that, suffering the ravages of hell, it would be inhuman. Standing back as far as he could, but holding out the bottle of whiskey within Spikes reach, Giles spoke his name "Spike!" When Spike didn't respond, Giles spoke louder, in a more demanding tone "Spike!" This time Giles voice penetrated Spikes consciousness and his head swiveled in Giles direction. Spike was still in full vampire mode when he locked eyes with Giles. Feeling in more danger than he had ever felt in his life, Giles lifted the bottle of whiskey up to Spikes eye level. Spikes hand snapped out and ripped the bottle from Giles hand and brought it to his mouth. Tipping his head back he started swallowing down the whiskey until the bottle was empty. When that bottle was empty, Spike let it drop to the floor to shatter, turning his head toward Giles again, the second bottle was already being held out to him. Snatching that bottle, Spike brought it to his lips and drank till it was empty also.

As the second bottle of whiskey emptied, Spike lowered it from his lips slowly. Like melting ice, his face morphed back to human. His eyes remained a golden yellow, but they were duller now, no longer lit with rage. Stepping back, until the backs of his legs hit the chair, Spike dropped. Letting the bottle in his hand slip from his fingers, it dropped to the floor. Bending forward, placing his elbows on his knees, Spike buried his face in his hands and started crying, silently. His whole body was shaking, but no sound escaped him. Tears that had run down his face, dripped off his chin and fell to the floor. If a doorway to Hell had opened in the floor, Spike would have stepped through it gladly.

Giles had moved back to the desk and was half leaning, half sitting on the edge of it. He kept his eyes on Spike, watching his tears drip down to the floor. He remembered his own reaction when he had learned what had happened to Dawn. How he had shed his own tears of pain and sorrow. But Giles recognized immediately that the level of pain he had felt over what had happened to Dawn in no way compared with what Spike was going through right now. Not since the death of Jenny Calendar had Giles felt that level of pain. Not even the death of Buffy had touched him that deeply, and the death of Buffy had nearly broken him. What this level of grief was doing to Spike was incalculable. How, and whether he would be able to pull himself out of his grief was an unknown.

A noise at the door drew Giles attention. Jennings was standing there with another bottle of whiskey. When Giles approached the door, Jennings spoke quietly "This is all I could find, Sir. I had to break into the infirmary to get it. If you want more I'll have to go over to the main terminal, and that will take at least a half hour or more. What do you want me to do, Sir?"

Before Giles could respond, Spikes voice, sounding gravelly and hoarse, came from behind him. "Let it go, Rupert. Don't have time for a proper drunk. You still have to tell me what I need to know."

Taking the bottle from Jennings, Giles turned around to face Spike. He was just then scrubbing the tears from his face with his hands. Jennings backed out the door while Giles opened the bottle of whiskey. Tipping his head back, Giles took a large swallow of the whiskey, then set the bottle down on the desk close to Spike. Walking around the desk he sat down in his chair and picking up Spikes cigarettes he pulled one out and using the lighter lit it up. He then set the cigarettes and lighter down next to the bottle of whiskey.

Spike pushed himself to his feet and using one foot kicked the broken glass on the floor out of his way. He picked up his cigarettes and put one in his mouth, then lit it. Picking up the bottle, he took a drink from it, then stepped back and sat down in his chair. Looking even worst than he had on the plane, his face gray and haggard, Spike spoke again. "Tell me what happened, Rupert. Tell me what was done about it."

"I'll tell you Spike, but I swear I don't know how much more of this you can take" Giles said softly, real concern was in his voice.

"I'll survive it Rupert, vampire here." Spikes voice sounded empty. "We don't have real feelings, remember."

"Yes, I remember Spike" Giles said with a note of bitterness in his voice, "and one day I'd like to have a conversation with the bloody wanker that started that fabrication."

Spike met Giles eyes and tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. Taking another drink from the bottle of whiskey, Spike sat back in his chair, waiting.

"Alright Spike, here's the hard and fast version. I took Dawn up to the UCLA campus on Tuesday morning and helped her settle in. Because she was coming into the school at mid year they had to place her where room was available. What that meant was they placed her with a girl who was two years older than her. The girl arrived Friday morning and moved in with Dawn. The girl started talking to Dawn almost immediately about going to a fraternity house party that night and wanted Dawn to go with her. Dawn was reluctant to go, but didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with her new roommate, so she agreed to go for a little while. Once they got to the party, which apparently was quite large, the girl went off for a few minutes, leaving Dawn alone. When the girl returned she handed Dawn a drink, telling her it was just soda. Dawn drank about half of the drink and started feeling dizzy. She looked for her roommate and when she couldn't find her started to leave on her own. Two young men took her by the arms and walked her down a hallway and down some stairs. Dawn was to disoriented to resist them."

"Most of what happened after that is even more confused, because once the young men had her down stairs they forced her to drink something that made her even more disoriented. What she can remember is that one or two of the young men started pulling at her cloths. When she tried to stop them, to resist, they started hitting her. That is mostly what Dawn can remember for the next couple of days. She doesn't remember how many young men beat her and raped her, all she can truly remember is the pain and confusion. She remembers that there were a large number of men, but she doesn't know if it was a small group of the same men over and over or if it was a large group of men. On the third night of her captivity, apparently because of the battered condition Dawn was in by that time, they didn't give her enough drugs to incapacitate her for the whole night. Late in the morning hours Dawn was able to walk and crawl her way out of the basement of the fraternity house. Walking and crawling she made her way to a drainage ditch about a mile from the fraternity house. An early morning jogger spotted her in the ditch and called the police. She was rushed to a hospital emergency room for extensive care. She had been beaten and burned all over her body, had several teeth knocked out, and had a number of broken ribs. When Dawn escaped she was only able to find her pants and her jacket. Fortunately for Dawn, Buffy had sewn a tag inside of her jacket that had her name and home phone number, she had no other identification on her."

"By the time Buffy and I arrive at the campus hospital, Dawn had been moved from the emergency room to a hospital room. The police were there and although Dawn was heavily medicated for pain she was able to tell the police what she could remember. Four hours later a police detective arrived and talked to Buffy and I about the situation. The detective and several police officers had gone to the fraternity house to investigate. They could find no proof that anything Dawn had told them had occurred. One of the basement rooms smelled as if it had just been freshly scrubbed clean, but it was next to the laundry room so they couldn't be certain. A number of the young men at the fraternity house testified that they did remember Dawn coming to their party on Friday night. They all stated that Dawn had gotten drunk, had made passes at a number of young men and had been asked to leave because of her behavior and abusive language."

"One of the young men stated that he had seen Dawn outside the fraternity house sharing a bottle with several men that were not members of the fraternity and he had seen her get into a car with them and drive off. To add to the story, Dawns roommate had gone to the campus housing office first thing that morning and had requested that Dawn be moved to a different room. The roommate claimed that Dawn was too wild and sluttish for this girl to room with and had told the woman at campus housing that Dawn had taken off the previous Friday night with a group of men and hadn't returned to the dorm room since that night. When the police questioned the roommate she made the same statement to them and claimed that she had also seen Dawn get into a car with a group of men that the girl did not know, but felt that from the way they acted and dressed that they were not students of the college. The girl had claimed that they were more likely just unknown strangers from the city trying to crash a campus party or pick up girls like Dawn."

"The detective also told them that the fraternity had a law firm to protect their reputation and that if Dawn tried to malign the name of the fraternity house, the Delta Zeta Kappas, or any of the members of the fraternity, they would file suit against her and petition the college board to revoke her scholarship. The detective told us the name of the law firm was Wolfram & Hart, and that they were very big and very powerful in Los Angeles. The detective told us that Dawn could file charges if she chose to, but there was very little chance of the case going to trial, especially with so many witnesses against her. The detective told them that he'd seen cases like this before, and with no witnesses to support her story and no proof, the police couldn't do any more than they had already done."

When Giles stopped talking, Spike could tell that the story wasn't over yet. When Giles asked him for a cigarette he knew he was right. Once he had the cigarette lit, Giles smoked it without saying anything for a minute or more, then looking up at Spike with his anger clearly showing, he continued. "Buffy blames herself for what happened to Dawn, at least partly. When Buffy was in high school she went to a fraternity party with Cordelia Chase. The fraternity was the Delta Zeta Kappas, which turned out to be demon worshipers that killed young women in order to gain favors from the demon. Buffy killed the demon and we all thought the fraternity was abolished from existence. Buffy never told Dawn about that instance in her life, because she wasn't very proud of it. Buffy felt afterwards that if she had told Dawn about the fraternity and what had happened to her, Dawn would have never gone to the party in the first place."

Giles paused again as he smoked his cigarette, then putting it out, continued. "We contacted Angel to see if he could be of any help to us, investigate the fraternity house, give us information about this law firm, Wolfram & Hart. Angel told us immediately that the law firm was know in the demon world as 'Evil, Incorporated' and that they represented the 'Senior Partners' in this plane of existence, a mystical entity much like the 'Powers That Be', only evil. He did some investigating over the next couple of weeks and informed us that Dawns roommate started driving a brand new BMW red convertible by the end of the week Dawn was hurt, and that she suddenly received a full scholarship, funded by Wolfram & Hart. He couldn't come up with any information about the young men in the fraternity house, except that all of them came from rich families and that all of their fathers had also been members of Delta Zeta Kappas. Angel told us that he had been butting heads with Wolfram & Hart for years and that they had tried to kill him a number of times. He informed Buffy and I that the only way to protect Dawn from them was to keep her far away from them."

Giles got up from his chair and started pacing the floor behind the desk. He came around the desk and taking the bottle of whiskey from Spike took a large drink and handed it back. He next asked for another cigarette and after lighting it started pacing again.

Spike watched Giles pace and knew he was stalling again. Unable to take the strain of anymore delays, Spike spoke up. "All right, Watcher, enough." Spikes voice was still hoarse and sharper that he intended. "Now tell me what Buffy wants, what Dawn needs from me. You know I'm more than willing to go into that fraternity house and slaughter everyone in it, and that bloody bint too. But I'm certain you didn't come all the way over here to get me to do that deed for you. I'm also certain that Buffy wouldn't consider that a favor, killing humans for her." Spikes voice had been rising and when he got to the end he was almost shouting "So tell me 'what the bloody hell' Buffy wants from me. What am I suppose to do for Dawn."

Giles had stopped pacing when Spike started talking. Seeing the state Spike was in, Giles knew he couldn't put it off any longer. Standing up straight he looked at Spike and in a soft voice, that still leaked the pain he was feeling, Giles told him. "The experience of all that Dawn went through, it shattered her Spike, broke her. In the hospital, because of all the pain she was feeling and the heavy medications she was under, we didn't realize it at first. But as Dawn became more coherent, able to understand what was happening, the truth of what had happened to her overwhelmed her. Finding out that the police were not going to be able to do anything to the people who hurt her, that in fact if she tried to do anything herself she would be sued, it was all to much. Dawn became hysterical for several days and had to be medicated. She stopped talking to any of the hospital staff, became deathly afraid if any male staff came anywhere near her, and cried for hours at a time. She was in the hospital for ten days before we could bring her home to Sunnydale. Once we got her home, her condition became even worse. She became paranoid that the young men from the fraternity house were going to come after her. She locked herself in her room and wouldn't come out. She started having nightmares and flashbacks to what had happened to her. We tried to get her to leave the house, to see a counselor, someone who knew how to help rape victims. But she refused to leave the house. The only way we could have gotten her out of the house would have been to force her, and Buffy couldn't do it. Dawn would have fought anyone trying to make her leave the house and Buffy couldn't risk hurting her, she just couldn't do it."

In a fit of temper, Giles turned away from Spike and kicked the heavy wooden desk as hard as he could, which didn't hurt the desk at all, but sent waves of pain through Giles foot and leg. Seeing Giles pain, and understanding that it wasn't the pain in his foot that was hurting him, Spike offered the bottle of whiskey to Giles. Giles took the bottle and drank off a large swallow. He then asked for another cigarette and after lighting it up he started talking again.

"We all started taking turns staying in the house with Dawn, all except Xander of course. Dawn would go into hysterics if he even entered the house and she became aware of it. Buffy dropped her classes at UC-Sunnydale, but she still had to work and patrol. Dawn was slipping deeper into depression and having nightmares whenever she slept that woke her up screaming. About the middle of February Dawn discovered something in Buffys room. Were not certain what Dawn was looking for in Buffys room, but what she found was your duster." The shock that passed over Spikes face spoke volumes inside Giles mind.

"Apparently, when you left Sunnydale you left your duster behind. Instead of throwing it away or destroying it, Buffy hid it away in her closet. When Dawn found your duster, she put it on and has barely taken it off since. Since that day, although the nightmares have continued, when Dawn cries out in her sleep she cries out for you. She begs for you to come home to her, to help her, to save her. Buffy had been going to see a counselor that deals with rape victims trying to get helpful information that would let her help Dawn. The counselor told Buffy that if there was someone that Dawn felt could help her, make her feel safe, then Buffy should try to get that person to visit Dawn, to see if they could break through her depression."

"That is why Buffy asked me, a month ago, to try to find you. To ask you to come back to Sunnydale, to help Dawn. I have kept in contact with Buffy over the past month, to apprise her of my progress in searching for you, and to keep updated on Dawns condition. Since my departure, Dawn has covered all of her windows to keep out any sunlight. She now sleeps on the floor between her bed and the wall in a nest of blankets and your duster. Two weeks ago she went on a rampage in the middle of the night and broke almost every mirror in the house. Her paranoia has gotten worse, she will only eat food from a can and only if she opens the can herself, she thinks the young men from the fraternity house are trying to poison her. Buffy said that she's lost so much weight she's wasting away." Giles paused, his voice to choked with emotion to continue. When he did speak again, his voice was a hoarse whisper. "Buffy said to tell you that she knows she has no right to ask you for any favors, but if you have any feelings at all left for Dawn, she's begging you to come back to Sunnydale, for Dawn."

Of all the reactions that Giles might have expected from Spike, the one he got was the one he never expected. Spike broke out into laughter. Giles immediate reaction was to become angry. An anger so hot that his 'Ripper' persona surged to the forefront. His face twisted with hatred, he balled his fist tightly and took a step toward Spike, ready to smash his fists against his face. But at the last moment his 'Watcher' persona noticed something that stopped him cold. Spike was laughing, but it wasn't the laughter of someone who thought something was funny, it was the laughter of someone so emotionally overwhelmed that they had become hysterical. Tears were flowing from Spikes eyes, his face was twisted in a grimace of pain, the laughter coming from his throat sounded as if it were tearing him to shreds. Spike was gasping to draw air into his lungs, he was almost convulsing in his chair. Looking into Spikes eyes Giles could see the pain in them, a pain so intense it frightened him. Not knowing where he got the courage to do it, Giles reached out and grabbed Spikes shoulder, shook him, and said sharply "Spike!".

At the sound of his name, the laughter broke off. Tears continued to flow down his cheeks as Spike sucked his lungs full of air. He stopped convulsing and slowly his body stopped trembling. Several minutes passed before the expression of pain faded from his face and eyes. Giles had released his hold on Spikes shoulder and had taken a step back. Spike raised his hands to his face and scrubbed the tears from his eyes and face. Looking up at Giles standing over him, Spike said in a voice that sounded hollow. "God, Rupert! If your trying to kill me, I wish you'd just use a stake." After pausing for several moments to gather himself together, Spike asked "Is there any more I need to know right now?"

Seeing how emotionally exhausted Spike was, and feeling nearly as drained himself, Giles answered. "No, Spike. I've told you everything that's important concerning Dawn. I could fill you in on the details a little more, but nothing important."

Spike nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement. Reaching out he picked up the bottle of whiskey from the little table next to his chair where he had set it down. Looking up at Giles he lifted the bottle as if offering it to Giles. When Giles shook his head 'no', Spike raised the bottle to his lips and tilting his head back he drank from the bottle until it was empty. Setting it back down on the little table, he fished into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. Taking one from the pack he lit it with his lighter then offered the cigarettes to Giles. Giles took a cigarette from the pack and using the lighter, lit it. Together they smoked in silence, neither one having the strength to say anymore.

When Spike finished his cigarette he dropped it on the floor and stepped on it. Raising his hands to his face he scrubbed them over his eyes and face. Looking at Giles who had moved over to the desk to put out his own cigarette in the ashtray, Spike said, his voice showing how tired he was. "Can we go now, Rupert? Can we go where we have to go, maybe sit down, rest a bit?"

Giles looked at his watch, then said "Yes, we can go now Spike. The plane doesn't leave for another two hours, but we can walk over to the main terminal slowly, check in at the airline counter and pick up our tickets. Once we get to the departure gate we shouldn't have to wait to long to board the plane. We can get some sleep on the flight over, I think we both need it."

Spike nodded his head and pushed himself up out of his chair. Giles led the way out of the room, where they found Jennings leaning against a wall waiting for them. The three men walked down the hallway and out a door leading to the outside without speaking. Once outside Spike could see that the main terminal was about a half mile away, but because they couldn't just walk across the airfield, the route they would have to take was a little more than a mile. The three men quickly settled into a comfortable walk. Jennings led the way, scanning the area ahead of them like a soldier walking point on patrol. Spike and Giles followed about five paces behind him.

About halfway to the terminal, Giles looked over at Spike. "You said earlier tonight that you have a passport and I'm assuming it's a fairly good one since you use it to travel all over Europe. But is it good enough to get you into the States? If not, I may have to make a couple of calls to get you on the plane."

Spike looked back over at Giles and a crooked smirk of a grin crossed his lips. "Actually, Rupert, it's probably a better one than you've got." Reaching inside his coat pocket, Spike pulled out his passport and handed it over to Giles.

Since the area around the terminal was well lit, Giles didn't have any trouble reading it. Instead of a fake British passport like Giles had expected, what he was looking at was a passport issued by the Vatican City. As a sovereign state within the country of Italy, the Vatican City had the right to issue their own passports. The passport stated that Spike was a legal resident of the Vatican City and that he had limited diplomatic immunity from searches because he was a registered courier for the Papal State. All of the stamps and seals look authentic. Giles checked the picture and saw that it was a current photograph of Spike. The name on the passport was, William Metatron. Giles recognized the name as being one of the lesser known Archangels. Looking over at Spike he lifted one eyebrow in question.

The grin on Spikes face got bigger. With a bit of snark in his voice, Spike explained. "One of the Vatican priests gave that to me, plus some papers that verify that I'm a courier. Because of my normal occupation, carrying around weapons and demon parts could get a bit dicey sometimes. I've got myself one of those steel courier cases and as long as I show my passport and papers, no one can open the case. It's made things a lot easier the past ten months or so. Now I haven't been back to the States since I got it, but I think it should do well enough."

Giles was impressed, but of course he couldn't admit it. "Well, I suppose it might do. You can never tell with those Americans though, Homeland Security and all that rubbish. If you do have any problems I suppose I will be able to use my Council contacts to work things out." When Giles handed the passport back to Spike, they both shared a grin, but didn't say anymore about it.

There were no problems with the passports, checking in, or picking up their tickets. The walk to the departure gate wasn't that long and there was only a short wait before the gate was opened to allow passengers to board. Spike and Giles were the first passengers to board the plane and as soon as they found their assigned seats, Spike retrieved a pillow and blanket from the overhead, took the window seat and promptly fell asleep. Giles remained awake until the plane was airborne, then settled himself back for some much needed sleep.

The flight from London to Los Angeles was a non-stop international that was scheduled to take twelve hours. Leaving at 1:00AM London time it was scheduled to arrive at 5:00AM in Los Angeles. Being a late night flight, a businessman's flight, the plane was only about two thirds full and most of the passengers tried to sleep most of the way. The airline hostesses on the flight knew what their passengers wanted. They kept the lights turned down low, the noise down, and didn't wheel carts up and down the aisle waking people up to ask them if they were comfortable or wanting something to eat.

Giles got a solid eight hours sleep, which he sorely needed, then spent the rest of the flight reading. Spike was sleeping like the dead, which made Giles grimace to himself ruefully when he thought of it. An hour out of LAX the flight hostesses turned up the lights and started waking passengers for coffee and croissants. This allowed the passengers time to wake up, use the lavatory and prepare themselves for landing and debarkation. When Spike awoke the blanket that he had pulled up to cover all but the top of his head slipped down. The blanket of course hadn't really been necessary to keep Spike warm as he slept, it's main purpose was to conceal his face and body so that no one would notice that he would stop breathing at times.

Giles had wondered in the past, and again on the flight over, why Spike breathed at all. It wasn't as if it were necessary, a vampire really only needed to breath if they were trying to talk, or smoke, or something similar. But Spike seemed to breath all the time? Giles pondered this and eventually had to come to the conclusion that this was just another of those many anomalies that made Spike who and what he was. A vampire who breathed, who laughed and cried, who felt emotions so strongly that it could sometimes take your breath away to see their effects on him. Giles would have liked to believe that Spikes ability to feel emotions was due to him having a soul, but he knew this wasn't true. For years Giles had watched Spike. He had seen him express anger, rage and hate, all explainable emotions for a demon. But he had also seen him express hurt and loss when Drusilla had left him years ago. He had seen Spike laugh and cry. He had witnessed first hand the devastation that Buffys death had on him after she leapt from the tower. He had also seen the near frantic efforts of Spike the summer after Buffys death to take care of and protect Dawn from any harm. He had witnessed, and been the recipient himself, of Spikes efforts to protect from harm any of the Scoobies. Giles had always surmised that these efforts were mainly due to Spike wanting to protect Dawn from having to suffer the loss of anyone else she cared about. But even if that was true it still showed a level of love and concern for Dawn that all of Giles years of training had taught him to be impossible. Giles wondered, and not for the first time, how things might have turned out differently if they had only treated Spike a little more … human?

Giles noticed while Spike woke up, and was still foggy from his deep sleep, that there was an unprotected innocents about the way he looked. It reminded Giles of a small child waking up in the morning full of life, love and innocents. As he became more awake a veneer seemed to slip down over his features, a protective mask. An insight came to Giles that astounded him. William the innocent covered over with a veneer of Spike the protector. Was Spikes brashness and often indifferent behavior toward others his way to protect William from harm? Did William hide safely behind the veneer of Spike, never having to suffer the harsh words and treatment of others that had always seemed to roll off of Spike so easily? A second thought came to Giles. He wondered if Spikes inner William really had gone unharmed, or if it was only Spikes hard shelled veneer of indifference to what was said and done to him that had made it seem that way?

Giles was jarred from his thoughts by the sudden movement of Spike rising to his feet. Giles moved his legs to allow Spike to step out into the aisle, then watched him join several other men waiting their turn to use the lavatory. As he watched, a pretty young flight hostess approached Spike and started speaking to him. Of the several men waiting in line, Spike seemed to be the only one she was interested in talking too. He noticed Spike speaking to her and smiling, but there wasn't the kind of overt flirting that Spike use to do with almost any woman Giles had ever seen him talk to in the past. When Spikes turn came and he entered the lavatory, Giles expected the hostess to go about her duties. Instead she remained outside the lavatory doors. When the lavatory door opened and Spike came out, the young hostess was standing there with a big smile on her face. A smile that suddenly froze, then disappeared. Giles immediately became alert, wondering if there was trouble. He watched Spike lean toward the woman and speak to her. An embarrassed grin spread across the woman's face and she gave a little nod of her head. She then turned and started walking down the aisle away from Spike. Giles was wondering what was going on. He got his answer when Spike turned toward him and started walking back down the aisle to his seat. Spike was now wearing a priests collar. With a smirk on his lips Spike retook his seat, but didn't say anything. Giles held his tongue also, not really knowing what to say at the time.

As they walked from the plane toward baggage pickup and on to 'Customs', Giles glanced over at Spike and asked quietly. "What's that all about?"

Spike knew what Giles was talking about and answered "I've found out that it helps, when you don't want to hurt someone's feelings, makes it easier to say No. Besides, it makes it simpler with the people at 'Customs' to believe I'm a courier when they see the collar."

Spike was right about the collar helping him at 'Customs'. After showing the 'Customs Officer' his passport and papers, plus speaking to the man in fluent Italian, he had no problems at all. Giles in fact had more of a problem, although minor, when he had to explain his passport, his green card, and that he was returning home to Sunnydale after an extended business trip in Europe. As they walked away from 'Customs' Spike couldn't help but have a smirk on his face.

By the time they finished with 'Customs' and had walked their way through the terminal, it was getting near to sunrise. Giles had left his car in long term parking when he left Los Angeles a month ago. Instead of risking Spike trying to make it out to the parking area, Giles caught the tram that would take him there, while Spike waited inside the shade of the terminal with their baggage where there would be no risk from the sun. Giles had assured Spike that he could ride in the back seat covered with blankets with no risk at all from the sun.

Spike of course, being as reckless as ever, got into the front seat instead of the back. With a blanket wrapped around him and his head covered, peeking out through a small gap in the folds of the blanket, Spike was ready to go. Giles thought he looked ridiculous, but decided not to say so, because instead of making the turn for the highway that would take them to Sunnydale, Giles instead made the turn that would take them back into the city. When Spike questioned where they were going, Giles explained that he had to take care of some business for the Magic Box before leaving town, and he also needed to stop by and see Angel.

Spike made a groan and started cussing loudly in a half dozen languages, two of them demon. When he finally wound himself down he peeked out of his blanket and glaring over at Giles, Spike said in a defensive tone of voice. "You know this is going to turn out bad, don't you? The last time I saw Angel was more than five years ago. I had him strung up being tortured, over that Ring of Amara thing. I doubt the bloody wankers going to be happy to see me. Probably try to dust me as soon as I walk through the door."

"Well will just have to see that it doesn't happen, won't we" Giles replied glibly. When Spike frowned at him, Giles continued in a more serious tone. "Spike, I know this is an inconvenience, but I have important business I need to take care of today before I can go back to Sunnydale. Angel has also been trying to gather more information on those young men at the fraternity house. I need to see him to find out if he has learned anything new. It shouldn't really be all that bad. Angel runs his business from an old hotel, there should be sufficient empty rooms that you could stay in one for the day and avoid him altogether. Just try not to provoke him and everything should be fine."

Still sounding grouchy, Spike replied "Yeah, that's easy for you to say. Your not the one he's going to try to stake."

The rest of the ride was in silence. Well, relative silence, Spike started playing with the radio dial looking for music that appealed to him, therefore driving Giles to distraction. When they finally pulled up in front of the Hyperion and Giles could shut off the engine, he did so with a sigh of relief. Sitting in the car looking at the thirty or so sun lit feet between the car and the doorway Spike frowned again. Not bothering to look at Giles he said "Go see if that doors unlocked. I'll be damned again if I'm going to run up there and burst into flames because the door won't open." Giles felt that Spike was being childish about the whole situation, but decided not to argue with him about it. Getting out of the car he walked up to the door, pushed it open and entered the building.

Stepping from the bright sunlight into the darker interior of the Hyperion it took several seconds for Giles eyes to adjust. When they did, the first thing he noticed was an attractive young woman walking toward him with her hand out. Giles had seen her at a distance the last time he had visited Angel, but did not know her name or what she did in relation to helping Angel. When she stopped in front of him, her hand still extended, she said "Hi, my names Fred, Winifred Burkel. I've seen you here before, are you looking for Angel? He's in his office right now."

Giles was enchanted by the sweetness of the young womans voice and demeanor. He extended his hand to her without question and shook her hand. She was thin, of medium height, had dark hair, wore glasses, and had the sweetest smile he had seen in many years. He was just about to speak when the door behind him crashed open and Spike came rushing into the foyer. He whipped the smoking blanket wrapped around him onto the floor and proceeded to stamp out the hot spots, the whole time cursing in at least three different demon languages. The girl, Fred, took a couple of steps back, her eyes growing wide, and stumbling sat down hard on the floor. It had taken her all of about two seconds to realize that Spike was a vampire.

Before Giles could even start to explain there was a loud squealing "Eeepp" sound from behind the large counter to the left of him and looking in that direction Giles saw Cordelia with her hands clasped in front of her mouth as she squeaked out "Spike!", her voice in near panic. From inside the office whose doorway Cordelia was standing at, a loud voice yelled out in fury "Spike?". Angel came charging out of the office and was hurtling over the counter heading straight for Spike with his hands open and ready to grasp Spike by the throat. Giles, without thinking, brought his knee up into Angels groin as he tried to rush past Giles. The impact of the collision sent Giles sprawling to the floor in one direction and Angel falling in another with his hands grasping his groin in agony.

Spike had been so distracted in stamping out his blanket and making sure that he wasn't on fire that he'd missed what was going on until everyone was on the floor. It had all taken just a few second to happen. Standing there, looking around the room at the scattered bodies, Spike still wasn't sure what had happened yet. He was suddenly distracted by the sight of a young man jumping over the top rail of a second story railing, landing on the floor in a crouched position, then launching himself toward Spike. Spike could see immediately that the boy was dangerous and ready to kill him, vamping out Spike met him in the middle of the room.

When they met it was in a flurry of fist and feet, blocks and parries. The boy was good, very good, he was also strong and fast, but Spike had been fighting the best in the world for over a hundred years. The only person that Spike had ever fought that he had considered to be truly better than him in an all out fight was Buffy, and this boy was no Slayer. Leaving himself open to a blow, when it came Spike was able to grasp the boys arm and spinning and twisting around the boys body he brought the boys arm up behind him while grasping him around the neck and throat. Spike was applying pressure, enough to cut off the blood to the boys brain and knock him out, when something about the boy stopped him.

Before Spike could make a decision on what to do next, Angels voice shouted out loudly "Spike, don't!" Holding on to the boy tightly to prevent him from breaking free, Spike glanced over at Angel who had just risen to his knees on the floor. He quirked a questioning eyebrow in Angels direction, wanting a reason. Angel said it quickly, a note of fear in his voice "He's my son, Spike, don't hurt him!"

Spike took a deep breath, taking in the boys scent, then recognition hit him. His face morphing back into human as he pushed the boy away from him hard in Angels direction. The boy spun around as if to go back after Spike when Angel grabbed the boy by the arm and held on tightly. Rising to his feet, Angel kept his hold on the boy. Spike looked at Angel with wonder in his eyes, then spoke "He smells of Darla. What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Giles had risen to his feet while this was going on and approached Spike cautiously, because from the look on Spikes face he might just well strike out at the first person who moved. Speaking quietly, Giles said "I'll explain it later. For some reason that seems totally obscure at the moment, I thought you already knew. This young man is Connor, he's Angels son. His mother was Darla." The complete bafflement on Spikes face made Giles want to kick himself. Why in the 'bloody hell' had he assumed that Spike would know about Connor when just a half hour ago Spike had clearly told him that he hadn't seen Angel in five years. Age and stress were clearly scrambling his ability to think.

Spike stepped back from Giles, looking at him as if he'd just grown another head. Cordelia had come around the counter cautiously and had moved up next to Angel and the boy. When he saw her reach out and place her hand on the arm Angel wasn't holding and giving it a gentle squeeze, like a mother would do to a son to calm him down, Spike became even more confused and took another step back until he had his back against a wall. Reaching into his coat pocket Spike pulled his cigarettes and lighter out. Cordelia looked as if she were going to say something, then held her tongue. Spike let a slight smirk spread over his lips, then putting a cigarette between his lips he lit it up. Drawing the smoke deep into his lungs, Spike let his eyes travel over everyone in the room. It was then that he saw the thin young woman for the first time. Fred had risen to her feet and was standing some distance away from Angel, Cordelia and Connor. She looked as if she wanted to go over to join them but was reluctant to pass in front of Spike and draw his attention to her. Spike looked at her, making sure that she knew he was looking at her, and gave her a smile. The smile seemed to surprise her and unconsciously she smiled back at him in return.

After a full minute or more of silence, Angel was the first to speak, his voice loaded with anger. "What's he doing here, Giles?"

"He's here because I'm an idiot and because I thought you could behave like a civilized human being." Giles snapped out causticly. "Obviously I was mistaken."

Stung by Giles words, Angel replied without thinking. "Not a human here, Giles."

"Yes, I'm aware of that, but sometimes you pretend to be." the acid in Giles tone of voice could have stripped the paint off the walls.

Before things could get to out of hand, Cordelia spoke up, her voice had a snarky snap to it. "Okay, everybody, stop right now, let's start this all over. Hello Giles, it's nice to see you. How've you been? Would you mind explaining why you brought Spike into our home. You do realize that the last time we saw him he was trying to murder Angel."

Spike snapped out defensively "I didn't try to kill the bloody ponce."

"You tortured him" Cordelia snapped back.

"Yeah? He's still alive, isn't he?" Spike tone of voice sounded as if he were trying to explain things to an idiot and they just couldn't understand what he was saying.

Before Cordelia could say anything else, Angel touched her arm to silence her. Spike noticed the interaction between them. Angel then spoke up for himself, his voice angry and aggressive. "Okay Spike, you didn't try to kill me. Long time ago, bygones be bygones, yada, yada, yada. So what are you doing here?"

"Not here by choice" Spike said defensively. That was the thing with Spike and Angel, everything between them always seemed to be either defense or attack, never a middle ground. Feeling the anger building inside him, Spike snapped out "Knew coming here was trouble. Passing through, that's all. On business." Seeing that Angel was about to question what his business was in L.A., Spike cut him off with "My business!"

Angel glared at Spike for several moments, then turning toward Giles he said, "Okay Giles, Spikes here on 'business'." Angel said the last word with a sneer in his voice. "But what are you doing in L.A., with him?"

Before Giles could get a word out, Spike took an aggressive step away from the wall and glaring at Angel, said "That's his business, Wanker! You get the concept? His business, my business, our business, none of your business!"

Angel glared back at Spike, and then an idea seemed to come into focus within his eyes. Looking back at Giles, his whole demeanor changed, he asked in a concerned tone of voice, without any of the previous anger, "It's Dawn, he's here about Dawn, isn't he?"

Giles started to speak, but looking over at Spike he changed his mind. Instead he just nodded his head slightly.

Angel took in a deep breath of air and let it out slowly. Then in a calm voice, speaking only to Giles, he asked. "Alright Giles, what do you need, what do you want?"

Giles looked over at Spike to see if he was going to say anything, when he didn't, Giles started talking to Angel in a crisp business like tone. "What I need is to take care of some important business for the Magic Box and to make a few phone calls. I also need to talk to you to find out if you have learned anything new in regards to the young men at the fraternity house, Dawns former roommate, and Wolfram & Hart. I cannot believe that what was done to Dawn was the first time something like that has happened. If we can not prove that these people did something to Dawn, perhaps we can prove they did something to someone else. As to what I want, I want a safe place where Spike can spend the day resting. A place safe from the sun, where he can feed, where he will be left in peace."

Angel gave a quick glance over at Spike, then looking back at Giles, speaking in a near whisper "Okay, but why did you bring him 'here'?"

Speaking quietly, but not as quietly as Angel, Giles said "Angel, you have what, thirty, forty, empty hotel rooms in this place? You have blood available, or have easy access to it? You know what Spike is, what his needs are. It seemed logical that this would be the best place to bring him. Unfortunately, I forgot to factor in your hatred of him."

"I don't hate him" Angel said defensively. Seeing the look of disbelief on Giles face, Angel quickly added "He just gets on my nerves."

"Fine, then let Spike have a room as far away from you as makes you comfortable. I'll go take care of my business and phone calls then come back here and discuss with you anything new you might have learned. I assure you that if you leave him alone, Spike has no reason to seek you out, therefore he should not get on your nerves. As soon as the sun sets we will leave and be of no further bother to you." Giles tone of voice was calm and reasonable, but Angel felt as if he were being reprimanded for having bad manners.

As soon as Angel and Giles started talking, Spike tried to ignore them. Not thinking about what he was doing he started adjusting his waterproof, folding down the collar from where he had folded it up as partial protection from the sunlight. Fred noticed something as he adjusted his coat and took several unconscious steps toward him to see better. Spike noticed her movement and turned toward her, not knowing if she was a danger or not to him. It took him a few moments to realize that she was staring at him and he started to feel uncomfortable. It was then that he realized what she was staring at, he had forgotten to take the priests collar off when he was still in the car. Mumbling 'bloody hells' and other words, he reached up behind his neck and unfastened the collar and pulled it off, over his head, quickly. Stuffing the dickey like collar into his coat pocket, Spike glanced back at the girl and now saw that she was staring at him even harder, her hands were at her mouth and her eyes were big and round. Reaching up to his neck he found that in taking off the collar he had pulled the cross he wore around his neck out into the open. Quickly he stuffed it back inside his t-shirt. Spike looked over to the girl again, to see if she was going to say or do anything. Fred just lowered her hands from her mouth, took three steps closer to Spike and gave him a smile that was absolutely 'brilliant'.

The girls smile was so stunning that Spike missed what she was saying to him. He didn't hear her introduce herself, nor did he hear anything else she said, it was all babble in his ears. It wasn't until she reached out and touched his hand that he became aware of anything but her smile. Realizing that she had grasped his hand lightly, he tightened his fingers around hers, just a little, and raising her hand up he kissed the back of it as if she were 'Nobility'. A slight blush came to her face, along with a new smile. Spike smiled at her in return, and speaking softly said "Sunshine, I have no idea what you just said to me. Your smile robbed me of my senses."

Connor had noticed Fred smiling at Spike, and when Spike raised her hand and kissed it, she smiled even more. Not understanding what was going on, he stepped away from Angel and stepped up behind Fred. He didn't know this vampire and assuredly didn't trust him, but he knew he wasn't suppose to attack him again. Not that attacking him would do much good. The blonde vampire had bested him in less than a minute, and could have killed him if Angel hadn't intervened. Connors ego was feeling a bit bruised, no one had ever beaten him before, or so quickly, except Angel. The little he did understand from overhearing Angel and Giles talk was that somehow this vampire and his father were connected. He had also understood that this vampire, Spike, had known his mother, Darla, and had said that he 'smells' of her. Connor wanted to know more about that, what it meant.

Spike noticed Connor moving up behind the girl, but determined that he wasn't a threat and returned his attention to her. She was blushing brightly from his words, but she was still smiling and for some reason unafraid. When she started speaking this time he listened to her. "I was telling you my names Fred. Actually it's Winifred, but everyone calls me Fred, well everyone but my mama, but she's not here right now. I was saying that I'd be happy to show you to a room for the day, cause there's a real nice one up on the fourth floor, it's on the north side of the hotel so there'd be no problems with the sunlight coming into the room. We fixed it up last year as a guest room for visitors, an seeing how you're a visitor and a guest, it would be perfect for you. We have blood in the freezer, so if your hungry I could put some in the microwave and heat it up for you, and don't worry, I know how to heat up blood without cooking it, I've done it for Angel a bunch of times." The more Fred talked the quicker her speech became and the longer her sentences. To cut her off, and let her stop for a breath of air, Spike reached up and pressed one finger lightly against her lips, which made her stop talking.

Spike couldn't help but smile at Fred. "I'd like that, love, you showing me to a room an all. I could do with a few more hours of sleep, but what I would really like is a hot shower and a change of cloths. I've been in these same ones for the past couple of days, what with all the travel. But my bags are out in the car and I can't go out after them. Maybe when the Watcher gets done gabbing he'll go out an fetch them for me."

"Oh, you don't have to wait for that, Connor will get your bags for you." Saying this, Fred turned her head slightly and said over her shoulder "Won't you, Connor? You'll get Spikes bags for him, won't you? I could take him up to his room now and you could bring up his bags?"

Spike spoke up quickly, following her words. "Look, pet, I don't want to be a bother to anyone. I can wait for the Watcher to get done."

Fred looked at Spike and then over at Connor, almost with a plea in her eyes. Connor bowed his head a little, while letting out a sigh, then said "No, it's okay, I'll get them for you. How many do you have?"

Spike hesitated for a moment, then accepted. "If your sure, don't want to be a trouble." When Connor looked up at him and just gave him a small nod of the head, Spike said. "Alright then, mine are the black duffle and the steel courier case, the rest are the Watchers." Connor just nodded his head, and first giving Fred a small smile, started walking toward the front door. Fred gave Spike another of her biggest smiles, and tucking her arm through his, started leading him toward the staircase.

Angel, who was still in his conversation with Giles, noticed Connor going out the door. He called out "Connor?", but by the time he got it out, Connor was already gone. He then glanced over at Spike and saw that he was gone too. Looking around he saw Fred with her arm tucked up through Spikes. He called out "Fred?", but if she heard him she didn't acknowledge it, she just kept going up the stairs with Spike. Angel, feeling confused, half turned so that he could see Cordelia, who had been standing a few feet behind him. Looking at her he said "What's going on?". Cordelia just shrugged her shoulders to indicate that she didn't know either. The front doors banged open again and Connor came rushing in with a black duffle bag in one hand and a steel courier case in the other. Without pausing Connor started to hurry across the foyer toward the staircase. Angel called out again, this time loud enough not to be ignored "Connor, where are you going?"

Connor stopped on the first step of the staircase and turning looked back at Angel, giving him a puzzled look. "Where do you think I'm going? Fred's taking Spike up to the 'guest room' on the fourth floor. He wants to take a shower and change cloths before he tries to get some sleep. Fred asked me to get his stuff for him." Connor then turned and started up the stairs quickly.

Angel stood there with his mouth hanging open. The 'guest room' on the fourth floor was the room that Fred had spent weeks cleaning and redecorating for her parents to stay in when they came to visit her the previous summer. No one else had ever stayed in the room, it was sort of excepted that the room was for Fred's parents and no one else. That she had chosen to take Spike to those rooms, when there were dozens of other empty rooms to choose from must mean something, but Angel had no idea what.

Turning back toward Giles, still feeling confused, and therefore by his nature, irritated, he noticed a smirk on Giles lips that he was trying not to show. Before Angel could say anything, Giles spoke first. "Yes, now that things have been taken care of properly, I'll be on my way. I should be finished with my business by early this afternoon. I'll be back then and we can go over any new information you may have learned over the past month while I've been away." Giving Angel a brief smile, Giles turned around and walked out the front doors, leaving Angel standing there with his mouth hanging open again.

Fred had been quiet as they climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, but as they topped the floor she looked over at Spike and asked him a question, her curiosity was written all over her face. "Did you really torture Angel?"

Spike kind of ducked his head, as if he were embarrassed, before speaking. "Nah, pet, couldn't really do that, him being family an all. Hired a professional to do it. That way it was business, not personal. Just wanted my property back, that's all."

Fred turned toward Spike and tilting her head a little to one side, scrunching up her brow a little bit, she studied him for a few moments, trying to figure out the logic of what he had just said. Finally giving her head a little shake she gave up on trying to understand vampire thinking. Instead she responded to just a part of what he'd said. "You and Angel, your family?"

They had just reached the door to the room Fred was taking him to, so he followed her into the room before answering. "Yeah love, ya know, vampire family, he's my grandsire."

"Really, how's that work?" Fred asked, full of curiosity. Angel never talked about his vampire side of life. Well, he did, but it was mostly to remind everyone that he was a 'good' vampire, because he had a soul. He hardly ever mentioned his life as a vampire before he got the soul, or even before coming to Los Angeles, at least not to Fred.

"Yeah, you know, sire of my sire?" When Fred continued to look at him with a question in her eyes, Spike knew he would have to explain a little more. "Angel never told you any of this?"

Fred shook her head, "Angel never talks about vampire stuff, at least not with me. I mean I know what siring is, Wesley and Charles told me that much, that's when a vampire turns someone into a vampire, right?"

"Yeah, well it's a little more complicated that that, mostly." Spike hesitated for a few moments, then went ahead. "See if I was to bite you and drain you, just before you die I'd make you drink some of my blood, that'd be turning you. If I just walked away, abandoned you, you'd wake up in your grave, dig yourself out and just be another feral vampire, no clan, no family. That's what most vampires are, mostly. But if I wanted to keep you, I'd be there when you dug yourself out of your grave to claim you as mine. I'd make sure you got your first kill so you could feed, I'd train you how to be a proper vampire, make sure you didn't get dusted before you could take care of yourself. That's what siring is about, claiming what's yours."

Fred nodded her head in understanding, then asked "How does that make Angel your grandsire?"

Connor had hurried to get the bags and to bring them up to Spike, so he was just outside the still open door when he heard Spike start to explain to Fred about siring. Connor stopped outside the doorway, out of sight, wanting to hear more. When he heard Fred ask about Angel being Spikes grandsire he knew he definitely wanted to hear more.

"Well, Angel was Dru's sire and Dru was my sire, so Angel is the sire of my sire, my grandsire." Spike had sensed Connor outside the door while talking to Fred. As he talked he'd walked over to the open door and looked out, making sure Connor knew he'd been caught listening, then turned back into the room. Connor, realizing there was know point in trying to hide, followed Spike into the room.

Wanting to satisfy his own curiosity, Connor asked quickly before anyone else could say anything, "How do you know Darla and what did you mean that I 'smell' of her?"

Hesitating again, Spike was feeling unsure of what he should tell this boy. The fact that Angel hadn't told the boy anything about his 'family' made him uncomfortable about telling him things Angel obviously didn't want him to know. It also made Spike angry. It was just like Angel to think that if you hid from the truth, then the truth wasn't real. Yeah, until one day the truth came out of hiding and bit you on the arse. Deciding that to tell the boy just what he'd asked for and nothing more would be safe enough, and not have Angel coming after him, Spike explained. "Darla was Angels sire, so she was my great-grandsire. We were all together for awhile, Darla, Angel, Dru and me, like a family, so I knew her. About the smell thing, it's complicated. But the simple version of it is that everyone has a smell about them, a scent that's just their own. Now you have your own scent, like everyone else, but you also have a touch of Angel's scent about you, and Darla's too. But I guess you being their 'son' sort of explains that a bit, doesn't it?"

Fred had been watching Spike closely the entire time they'd been together and she could tell by his body language that he was uncomfortable talking about these things with Connor. She wasn't sure why, but she could feel it. To prevent Connor from asking more questions she decided to intervene. "Connor, why don't we let Spike take that hot shower he wanted. Maybe after he gets some rest he'll have time to talk to us again, you know, before he has to leave tonight." Seeing the relief in Spikes eyes when he looked over at her, Fred knew she was doing the right thing.

Connor hesitated, he had questions he would like to ask Spike, questions that his father always avoided, but he reluctantly agreed. "Yeah, maybe later, before you leave."

Spike woke up still feeling worn out. After he'd taken his shower he'd dressed in clean pants and t-shirt, then laid down to rest. He was still feeling exhausted from all the emotional turmoil he'd been through the past two days and should have fallen asleep easily, but his mind wouldn't shut off. Thoughts of Dawn and what she'd been through were tormenting him. The promise he'd once made to protect her from harm made his soul burn with guilt. When he ran from Sunnydale three years previously he hadn't thought about his promise then, the emotional trauma of what had just happened with Buffy had overwhelmed all other thoughts. But afterward, after he'd received his soul, after he had regained the ability to think without the chip trying to fry his brain, he'd thought about his promise many times. The only way he'd been able to assuage his guilt over the years was by imagining that Dawn was safe and happy, and that, with Buffy there to protect Dawn, he wasn't really needed.

Learning of how Dawn found out what he had tried to do to Buffy had been a major trauma to his soul. He had hoped so hard, so often (you could almost call it prayed) that Buffy had never told Dawn why he had left town. Finding out the way she did, from that bloody whelp Harris, had to have hurt her terribly. She must have hated him for what he'd tried to do. But, the Watcher had sworn to him that Dawn still loved him, and trusted him? Spike couldn't understand? As much as he hated himself for what he'd tried to do, he couldn't understand why Dawn didn't hate him too? Then learning that for some reason Dawn had blamed Buffy for his leaving. That he had been the cause of a breach between the two of them. Spikes soul had twisted and turned with that knowledge.

The rage that Spike had felt when he was told what happened to Dawn had nearly burned his soul from his body. If it had been possible he'd have reached up to heaven and pulled God down from his throne and throttled him for allowing such a thing to happen. But then his soul had twisted his rage into guilt. It wasn't God who was responsible for what happened to Dawn. It was humans and demons, monsters like himself, that had done this to her. The pain of his guilt had made his body shake with the need to seek vengeance. His soul had calmed him, soothed him, telling him he would get his chance for vengeance, but first he needed to help Dawn.

It was the last of it that the Watcher had told Spike that had nearly destroyed him. When Giles had told him that Buffy was begging him to come back, to help Dawn, to make her feel safe again, 'that' had pushed him over the edge. Spike knew that he had crossed over into insanity then. The idea that he, a monster, a would be rapist, someone Buffy hated and feared, could make Dawn feel 'safe' was more than his mind could handle. Spike felt certain that if Giles hadn't touched him, spoken to him when he did, snapping him back into reality, he could have never come back on his own. The thought had come to Spike that he should have thanked Giles for snapping him back to reality. But then the thoughts of what he had yet to face ahead of him made him wonder. Maybe he would have been better off if Giles had just left him to his insanity.

Going back to Sunnydale to try to help Dawn, to make her feel 'safe again' was going to be hard enough on him. But facing Buffy, facing her hate and fear, Spike was afraid that it would be more than he could handle. Spike admitted to himself that he was fragile right now. That he was torn open, his heart and soul were both lying bare to the emotional storm that had been tearing at him for the past two days. He knew that he would have to build up his walls of protection around himself again. He knew that the only way he would be able to face Buffy was if he could shelter himself behind these walls. But at the same time he was afraid. He was afraid that if he built these walls up again that he might not be able to give to Dawn what she needed from him. Spike had fallen asleep, fitfully, his mind in turmoil with these opposing thoughts.

Waking up, Spikes thoughts felt thick and sluggish. His head was aching, he knew he needed to feed soon. Sitting up and swinging his legs out, he sat on the edge of the bed for a minute. He looked around the room at the décor. It wasn't something that really appealed to him, but he could tell that whoever decorated the room had done so with love and care. There were to many little touches about the room for this to be just any room in the hotel. The thought came to him that the girl, Fred, must have had something to do with this room, making it look so nice, so home like. It also came to him that if this room was special to Fred, then the fact that she had brought him to this room must mean something, he just didn't know what?

He'd stayed in his room after he woke up, he didn't want to be wandering around the hotel and run into Angel. But when there was a knock on the door he answered and Fred was on the other side with a smile on her face. She told him Giles had returned and was with Angel now and she was wondering if he would like to come down to the kitchen for something to eat. On the way down he'd made a reference to the 'Watcher' having been busy all day and Fred asked if he thought Giles would know of any other 'Watchers' in the area. Fred explained that she'd had a friend, Wesley, that use to be a 'Watcher', but she hadn't seen him in over two and a half years. She was wondering if Giles might have seen him over the years and if he was doing alright. Spike had noticed that the smile had left her face and was replace by one of sadness. Spike had told her that he'd been out of the country himself for the past three years, so he didn't really know. He suggested that she ask Giles herself. She'd gotten a reluctant look on her face and had mumbled out that maybe she would do that, speak to him when he wasn't busy with Angel. The fact that she didn't want to speak of her friend in front of Angel didn't go unnoticed.

Talking to Fred turned out to be easy. Mainly it was easy because she acted as if he were just a normal person. Even when he was drinking blood in front of her, she acted as if it were just a cup of tea. He'd mentioned that he'd been out of the country, so she asked where he'd been, and he told her some of the counties he'd been too. She said how much she envied him, traveling like that, seeing different countries. She told him that she hadn't seen much of the world, just Texas where she was born and a little bit of California. She told him that she was a physicist, a scientist, and started to explain what that was about, but he interrupted her, telling her that he'd never understand. He told her that the only scientist he'd ever known was a phrenologist, and that had pretty much put him off from studying the hard sciences. Fred grinned at him for calling phrenology a hard science. She told him how she'd been sent to a demon dimension for five years and had lived as a slave cow and then a runaway. That when Angel, Wesley, Charles and Lorne had come to Pylea to rescue Cordelia, Angel had rescued her too and brought her back.

Spike noticed the mention of the man 'Wesley' again, that Fred had mentioned his name at least three or four times. Trying to be casual, Spike asked where these other blokes were, that he'd like to meet the people that had rescued her. She told him that Charles was probably with his girlfriend Anne. That she ran a shelter for street kids, runaways and lockouts, and that Charles helped her out a lot during the daytime. That he usually only came around in the evening or when Angel called him in for a job.

That Lorne was up in his room, probably sleeping, because he was usually up all night. She explained that Lorne was a demon from Pylea and that he was a psychic-empath, that he could read a persons past, present and future. But to get a true reading a person had to sing for him. That's why he ran a human-demon night club called 'Caritas' and was know as the 'Host'. She told him that humans and demons from all over came to Lorne for readings, that he could put them in touch with their emotions and help them find their way. That even Angel sang for him sometimes when he was having problems dealing with certain issues. Hearing that Angel sang for Lorne, Spike made the comment that he hoped Lorne was tone deaf, because Angel certainly couldn't sing.

When Fred didn't mention the man 'Wesley', Spike brought the name up himself and prompted her to talk about him. Spike already knew that the bloke hadn't been around for awhile, Fred had already mentioned it. But it was the fact that whenever she did mention his name she seemed to get a sad look on her face that interested him the most. That anyone could make Fred sad was of interest to him. Spike was good at reading people, when he wanted to take the time. He could tell that the sadness that Fred felt wasn't due to something this 'Wesley' had done to her, it was due more to something she had done, or failed to do, that made her sad. Spike could read regret and remorse on a persons face like other people could read a newspaper.

Slowly at first, but then with more animation, Fred told him the story about Darla returning to L.A. pregnant with Angels child. That there was a prophesy about an 'unborn child' and that Darla had sacrificed her own life by killing herself so that Connor could be born, or 'unborn' actually. How there had been a second prophesy, a fake one, that had fooled Wesley into believing that Angel would 'kill his son'. That to save Connor and to prevent Angel from doing something that would destroy him, Wesley had run off with Connor. How Wesley had been tricked, had his throat cut, and Connor stolen from him. How the man Holtz had carried Connor into a demon dimension where Angel couldn't follow him. How Angel had blamed Wesley for the loss of Connor and had tried to kill him in his hospital bed. How everyone had blamed Wesley, all of them refusing to understand at the time that Wesley was trying to save Connor, not harm him. That Connor had come back from the demon dimension a few months later, having aged about seventeen years. How Holtz had raised Connor to hate Angel. How Holtz had himself killed in a way to make Connor think that Angel had killed him. How for revenge Connor had sunk Angel in a steel box to the bottom of the ocean to suffer a never ending death. And then how months later, Wesley had rescued Angel from the ocean floor and returned him to the Hyperion to face Connor. That after rescuing Angel, Wesley had left Los Angeles and that she hadn't seen or heard of him since he left.

With a little additional prompting from Spike, Fred confessed how badly she felt about how things had ended with Wesley. How everyone was so hurt after the loss of Connor. How she had gone to Wesley after he got out of the hospital and had told him that he should never return to the Hyperion. How it wasn't until much later that she understood that Wesley had been a victim in this story as much as anyone else, and how much she regretted having turned her back on a friend without ever trying to understand why he did what he had done.

By the time that Fred finished her story she had tears in her eyes and was visibly upset. Spike moved to her instinctively and wrapping his arms around her he tried to sooth her. Fred let Spike hold her, she understood just as instinctively that Spike needed to comfort her as much as she needed to be comforted. That was when Lorne walked in on them.

As soon as Spike saw Lorne he stiffened up, then let his arms fall away from holding Fred. Fred was aware of Spike's actions, but kept one of her arms wrapped around his waist as she half turned to see who had come into the room. As soon as she saw it was Lorne a smile came to her face and she said "Hi Lorne. You just get up?"

Lorne's reaction and the words out of his mouth surprised Spike. "Oh goodness, goodness, Freddikins, what have we here? Have you been holding out on your uncle Lorne? Where have you been hiding this yummy treat? He's absolutely scrumptious."

Spike looked the green demon in front of him over. Lorne was taller than Spike, was extremely hansom for a demon, had reddish blonde hair, red horns and eyes and naturally red lips. He was wearing a pale chartreuse leisure suit, a pale orange silk shirt with a paisley green on yellow cravat, and on his feet, red shoes. The colors and outfit were a bit stunning for Spikes eyes, but on the demon it all looked good.

A blush came to Fred's face and a nervous giggle escaped. "It's not like that Lorne, Spike and I, were just friends."

Hearing Fred call him a friend made Spike feel good inside. Over his hundred and twenty plus years of unlife Spike had made very few friends. He'd had hundreds of acquaintances, a dozen or so that he'd been on friendly terms with, but very few that were actually friends. There was Dawn of course, but Dawn was more than just a friend to him, more like a sister really. There had been Clem, a good mate, share his last bag of Cheetos if you were hungry. Always willing to listen when you needed to talk. Spike thought of including the witch's, Willow and Tara, but decided that they were more of the friendly terms type of acquaintances. There was Father Boulard, they were on friendly terms, but again, not really friends. Thinking about this only took seconds, but in that time it registered on Spike that in all the years of his existence he could only think of two people, one a child and the other a demon, that he could call a friend. A cloud of sadness seemed to surround Spike with these thoughts.

"Whoa, sweet cheeks" Lorne said as he looked at Spike intently, "where did all this gloom come from? You got Freddikins in your arms, you should be glowing like the sun." Studying Spike a little closer, Lorne continued "Okay, maybe in your case it should be glowing like the moon, but still there should be glowing."

Hearing Lorne's reference to the moon told Spike immediately that Lorne was aware of his vampire status, but like Fred, didn't seem bothered by it. This puzzled Spike. He knew that Angel and his mates hunted and killed vampires and assorted demons all the time. Walking in on Fred in the arms of a vampire should have scared him, upset him, disturbed him, something? Instead he acted as if it were perfectly normal, and actually seemed friendly. Spike didn't understand this at all.

Fred had also heard Lorne's words and turning back to Spike, with the arm she still had wrapped around his waist, she gave him a hug. She also reached up and gently touched the side of Spikes face. "Hey, I didn't mean to make you sad. The holding and comforting, it was good, for me anyway."

"It wasn't you, love" Spike told her gently. "When you've been around as long as I have, sometimes a word or two just brings back old memories, not always happy ones. That's all it was, old memories, didn't have anything to do with you at all."

Fred smiled at Spike and gave him another hug. "Well that's alright then, because I really hate when my friends are sad, because that makes me all sad, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"Nah, pet" Spike replied with a smile on his face "love that smile of yours to much to see it replaced with a frown. You smiling, makes the world a happier place for everyone."

Fred wrapped her other arm around Spikes waist and pulling herself against him tightly gave him a big hug as she smiled her biggest smile at him. Spike brought both of his arms up around Fred and returned the hug and the smile. Bending his head so that his lips were next to Fred's ear, Spike whispered to her "Your really special, love! One of a kind!"

Fred moved her lips next to Spikes ear and whispered back, "So are you, the really special part."

Spike pulled back enough to look into Fred's eyes and could see a glint of secret knowledge hiding in their depths. He was just about to ask her what she meant when Angel, Cordelia and Giles walked into the kitchen. Because he was facing toward the doorway, Spike could see the reactions of all three of them as they entered the room. Cordelia's reactions were the easiest to read, surprise and confusion at seeing Fred in Spikes arms. Giles reactions were similar, there was surprise and possibly a little confusion, but mostly there seemed to be concern and maybe worry. Spike wasn't certain why the Watcher would be concerned, he should know by now that Spike wouldn't hurt the girl. As far as being worried, it was probably only worry about Angels reaction.

Angels reaction to walking in on Fred being held in Spikes arms was typical Angel. The first emotion on his face was shock, followed by fear, followed as always by anger. Seeing Spike and Fred together, the uncertainty of the situation, brought out a reaction that Spike had seen in Angel many times in the past, possessiveness. Even though Angel and Cordelia were obviously involved with each other, just as obviously Angel felt he had a claim on Fred as well. Fred was part of Angels crew, so therefore she belonged to him, and anything that belonged to Angel meant 'hands off' for Spike. A smirky grin spread over Spikes lips as he stared back at Angel. Spike knew that if Angel had walked into the room and had found Spike with his arms around Lorne, he would have reacted the same way. Angelus had always been a possessive selfish bastard and it was in moments like this that the demon always rose to the surface, no matter that Angel would claim otherwise.

The first words out of Angels mouth were as predictable as sunrise. In a sharp tone of voice, filled with anger, Angel snapped out "Fred, get away from Spike, he's dangerous!"

Spike let his arms drop away from holding Fred as he continued to smirk at Angel. Fred to the contrary, kept her arms around Spikes waist and saying over her shoulder in a tone of voice that showed no concern at all, "Why's that, Angel?"

"Because he's a monster, you can't trust him!" Angel snapped out as he moved up behind Fred and taking hold of one of her arms tried to pull her away from Spike.

Releasing her hold on Spike as she was pulled back, Fred turned sideways and forcefully twisted her arm out of Angels grasp. "Let go, Angel" Fred said forcefully. "I think I'm old enough to pick my own friends, don't you?"

A shocked look came to Angels face as Fred pulled away from him. "Fred, you don't understand. Spikes evil, he'll hurt you."

Holding her arm up where everyone could see the red marks on her arm where Angel had grabbed her, Fred said angrily "Like you just did?"

Fred's words were like a slap across Angels face. He took two steps backward, confusion was plain to read on his face by everyone. If it were possible he would have blushed.

"Angelcakes, what's your problem?" Lorne asked as he furrowed his brow and studied Angel closely. "Fred and Spike were just 'sharing a moment', he wasn't hurting her. In fact, I think Freddikins was starting to enjoy herself, weren't you sweetie?" Lorne looked over at Fred and gave her a big smile.

Fred ducked her head a little as she blushed. Then looking up at Lorne she gave him a smile. Turning so that she could see Spikes face she said "But yeah, it was nice." Turning her face toward Angel, she continued "Being held by someone who's sweet and gentle, it's nice. Makes a girl feel safe and comfortable to be with them."

The play of emotions on Angels face was almost comical, at least to Spike. There was shock, then shame, followed by embarrassment, ending with anger. Of course the anger wasn't directed toward Fred or Lorne, as usual it was focused on Spike. If looks were wooden stakes, Spike would have turned into a pile of dust. Furrowing his brow, clenching his teeth, the muscles in his jaws bunching up, Angel turned and marched quickly from the room. As he passed Giles he growled out quietly, but loud enough that Spike could hear him, "Get him out of here!"

Spike glanced around the room at everyone and it was easy to read that they were all a little embarrassed by Angels behavior, even Cordelia had a slight blush on her face. Not wanting to cause more of a problem, Spike spoke up as if nothing had happened. "Yeah, Watcher, it's time to go. I'll run up and get my bags. Meet you out at the car." Giving everyone a smile, Spike hurried from the kitchen, taking the back stairs up to the fourth floor.

Entering the room to grab up his bags, Spike found Connor sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him. As soon as he entered the room Connor was on his feet. "Your leaving now, aren't you?" Connor asked, almost shyly, he didn't make direct eye contact with Spike.

Spike nodded his head as he picked up his bags. "Yeah, the Watchers down at the car waiting, have to hurry." Spike wasn't sure what else to say to the boy, so he turned and started walking from the room.

Connor followed him out the door, and then walked down the hall toward the stairs next to Spike. Glancing over at Spike furtively, then looking away, Connor spoke quietly but quickly. "I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk. Before you left. Thought maybe you could tell me some things, about Darla, my mother." Connor paused as they started down the stairs. When they got to the third floor landing he spoke again. "Angel won't talk about her. Won't explain why. Just says that she ended her own life so that I could be born. Says that she loved me enough to do that." The last words were filled with uncertainty.

Spike looked over at the boy and could see that the questions were important to him, but at the same time he was a little afraid of the answers. Spike looked over at Connor and felt compassion for him. The one thing, of all things in the universe, that Spike had never doubted was that his mother had loved him, and that he had loved her. That he had turned his mother so that they could be together always, and then killed her because the demon he'd created wasn't his mother, that act had tortured him for over a hundred and twenty years, long before he ever got a soul. But he never doubted that his mother had loved him with all her heart. Stopping on the last step of the stairs, Spike studied the boy and made a decision.

Glancing over at the closed door of Angels office, Spike spoke quietly. "Look boy" Spike paused, then started again. "Connor, now isn't the time or the place for this conversation. I've got to go, and what you want to hear can't be said in a few minutes." Seeing the disappointment on the boys face, Spike continued, his voice showing his compassion. "I'm leaving for Sunnydale, it's important that I go there, now. But, give it a few weeks, think about it, then if you want to talk, I'll be there. Don't know if I can answer your questions, but I'll try. May not be the answers you want though, so think about that too."

Connor looked Spike in the eyes for several moments. He could see that Spike was being honest with him, and that was all he really wanted, someone to give him honest answers. Nodding his head, then making eye contact again, Connor said "Okay, I'll think about it. But, …… thanks, ….. for the offer."

Spike gave Connor a nod of his head and stepped off the last step into the lobby. Connor turned and headed back up the stairs. When Spike got to the doors leading outside, just before pushing the door open, he called out loud enough he was certain Angel could hear him, "See ya later, Grandpa!"

Once out the door he walked to the car and put his bags in the back. Cordelia, Lorne and Fred were talking to Giles. As he approached, Fred and Lorne gave him smiles, Cordelia didn't. Fred took his hand and gave it a squeeze, then told him to stop by again the next time he was in town. Spike gave her a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Lorne encouraged him to come back again soon, telling Spike that he would love to take him to his club 'Caritas' and hear him sing. Spike gave Lorne a smile and a hand shake, but no promise. Cordelia just said goodbye to Giles. Spike cocked one eyebrow at her and when she seemed to blush he gave her a grin. When both of them were in the car, Giles started it and drove away.

Once they were on their way Spike settled into his seat and quietly stared out the side window. Giles had said a couple of things to him, asking how the day went and such, but Spike hadn't felt like getting into a conversation. He remained quiet until Giles had worked his way through the city and had driven onto the highway that would lead to Sunnydale. He then quietly asked Giles if Fred had ever had a chance to speak to him alone. Giles had told him that she hadn't, and that made Spike feel sad for her. Spike suggested that the next time Giles visited Angel, he try to talk to Fred, alone, she had some questions she'd like to ask him, about an old friend of hers that he might know.

They had just passed a sign at the side of the highway that Spike recognized as the halfway point between L.A. and Sunnydale. Shaking off the deep thoughts that he had let himself sink into, Spike rolled down his window and lit up a cigarette. He offered one to Giles, but it was politely refused. Giles complained that he had smoked more cigarettes in the past few days than he had smoked in the past ten years. He claimed that his throat was raw from the smoke and all the whiskey he had consumed.

As if picking up a conversation that they were in the middle of, Spike asked "What happens now, Rupert?"

Giles glanced over at Spike and then turned his eyes back to the road. Pulling his own thoughts together for a few moments, he answered. "I'll be taking you to Buffys house. She's fixed up the basement for you, tried to make it comfortable, covered all the windows to keep out the sunlight. Then when your ready, you can see Dawn. We don't really know how this is going to go, were just hoping for the best. In her depression and paranoia, Dawn has fixated on you as the one person that will keep her safe. Were hoping that if she starts feeling safe again, the paranoia and depression will lift enough that we will then be able to get her to go to counseling to help her more."

"What if I can't help her, Rupert?" Spikes voice was tense with anxiety. "What if I can't make her feel safe again? What if I make things worse?"

Giles drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly before answering. "I don't know, Spike. Were hoping this will work, but we don't know. Truthfully, all I can say is that right now, you're the best hope we have of getting through to Dawn and helping her. And believe this or not, I'm very grateful to you for coming back here and trying."

"I'd do anything for the Niblet, Rupert, anything at all" Spike said, his voice thick in his throat.

They were ten miles from Sunnydale before Spike spoke again. "What about the whelp, Harris? Am I going to have trouble with him?"

Giles only hesitated briefly before answering. "No, I don't think so. But if there is a problem with Xander, I promise you I will take care of it myself." A cold determination had come into Giles voice as he finished his promise.

When Giles pulled into the driveway of the Summers home and shut off the engine, Spike got out of the car and lit a cigarette. He stood looking at the house, smoking his cigarette, not saying anything. Giles opened the back of the car and got out Spikes duffle bag and courier case. He started to say something to Spike, but hesitated. The way Spike was looking at the house, he seemed to have a distant faraway look in his eyes. Giles could easily imagine some of the memories that were crossing Spikes mind at this moment, and few of them would be pleasant memories. Picking up the duffle and case, Giles carried them up the sidewalk to the porch and front door, where he set them down, then knocked on the door.

Still standing at the side of the car, smoking his cigarette, Spike watched Giles carry his bags to the house, set them down and knock on the door. Within moments the door was opened and Buffy was standing there in the doorway, the light behind her putting her face in shadow. He could see that she smiled at Giles and wrapping her arms around him gave him a hug. Spike heard Buffy say something and Giles reply, but he was just far enough away and they both spoke just quietly enough, that he couldn't make out what was said. When she let him go, Giles bent and picked up the bags again and carried them into the house. Buffy stood in the doorway looking out across the dark yard to where Spike was standing. At first she stood there with her hands folded in front of her, then moved them behind her back. Spike could tell that she was nervous and knew that he was the reason. Taking a last drag off his cigarette, he dropped it to the ground and stepped on it.

Squaring his shoulders and giving his head a twist until his neck popped, Spike started walking toward the door. The closer he got to the porch and the front door the more nervous he felt. His soul was squirming inside of him and if his heart could beat, it would probably have been pounding. Stepping up onto the porch, he stopped several feet back from the door, looking at Buffy. She was smiling at him, but he could tell that it was fixed and fake. He was close enough to her now that he could hear her heart, it was beating fast. He could also smell her now, the scent of her made him dizzy. He wanted to say something, but had no words. He would have fallen to his knees and begged for her forgiveness, but he knew forgiveness wasn't possible. They both stood there looking at each other, both to nervous to do anything else.

A full minute or more of silence had passed. Spike had opened his mouth once to try to say something, but couldn't speak. Buffy stepped back from the doorway and raised one hand up to hold onto the opened door, the other hand she kept behind her. At least another minute went by and still Buffy hadn't invited him into the house. Spike was starting to fidget, was she going to refuse to invite him in, after he'd come all this way?

When Buffy finally did speak, her voice sounded frightened to his ears. "I …. we never revoked your invite, Spike. You can come inside …. whenever you want to." She took a step further back from the door, as if to give him more room to enter.

Spike stopped breathing. Hearing that his invite to Buffys home had never been revoked was making him doubt his hearing. Cautiously he approached the door and tentatively reached out with one hand to test the threshold. When his hand past the boundary, he pulled it back quickly as if he'd been shocked. Taking in a deep breath of air, he stepped over the threshold as if he expected to be hit by something immediately. When nothing happened, he took two steps to one side to put more distance between himself and Buffy. Hearing a noise behind him he turned to see Giles standing in front of the fireplace and Willow standing in front of the couch. The look on Giles face was calm and controlled, showing no obvious emotions. Willows was a different matter, he could read nervous tension radiating off of her in waves. She had a fixed smile on her face as she looked at him, but he could see her eyes were darting from him to Buffy behind him. When she spoke her voice cracked with nervousness. "Hey Spike, welcome back to Sunnydale."

Spike cocked an eyebrow at Willow as he took a couple more steps further into the room and over to the side, leaving a way for Buffy to enter the room without having to come to close to him. Willow blushed and dropped her eyes from his face to stare at the floor. When Buffy closed the front door, then walked past him to stand next to Willow, her steps were quick and nervous. Spike still hadn't said anything, his nerves and uncertainty were choking off his ability to speak.

Twice Buffy tried to say something and both times she faltered. Spike could see how nervous she was and her tension was sending his own nerves out of control. Looking over at Giles he begged with his eyes that Giles do something. Giles had been nervous about this meeting himself, but of the four people in the room he was by far the calmest.

Breaking the silence in the room, Giles said "Yes, well, now that you're here Spike, would you like to get settled in …. or have something to eat?"

Buffy spoke next, her speech quick and nervous sounding. "We have fresh blood, I got it today, right after Giles called me." Buffy tried to look at Spike and smile, but could only hold eye contact for a few seconds. "We have chicken wings too, Willow picked them up on her way over. I could warm them up …. if you want?" Buffys voice seemed to fade at the end.

When Spike tried to answer, the first word out of his mouth was "No", but much louder than he meant it to be. Taking a breath, he started again, "No, I'm fine. I ate before we left." Taking another breath, holding it for a few moments, then breathing out, he said in a calmer voice. "I'd like to see the Niblet, if that's alright with you?"

Buffy looked up at Spike now and he could see that there was pain and fear in her eyes. Spike felt certain that it was his presence that was causing both the pain and the fear, but when Buffy spoke he wasn't as certain anymore, because the pain and the fear seemed to have a different focus, and there was also a note of desperate hope. "Oh, good, good, I'll take you up to her room right now. I know Dawn will be happy to see you. She's really missed you. I know it will make her happy."

With quick jerky steps Buffy walked out of the room toward the stairs leading upstairs. She paused on the first step, waiting for Spike to follow her. Spike let Buffy lead the way up the stairs, staying five or six steps behind her. When he reached the top of the stairs she was waiting a few steps down the hallway for him. Once she was certain he was behind her she lead the way down the hall. As Spike started to walk past the bathroom door his stomach clinched and he felt nauseous. He slowed down and had to turn his eyes away from the door as he went past it. Buffy had stopped outside the last door in the hallway, the door to Dawns room. Taking a quick glance at Spike, Buffy opened the door quietly and entered the room. Spike took a deep breath and steeling himself for what was to come, he followed Buffy into Dawns room.

Spike had been in Dawns room before, numerous times, when he was taking care of her after Buffy had died. As he looked around the room he noticed the glaring changes. There was only one window in the room, but a heavy blanket had been nailed up over it to keep any sunlight from entering the room. The walls were still the same color that they had always been, but all of the posters and pictures that had been on the walls were now missing. The room had once been full of dolls, stuffed animals and a hundred other girly things that belonged to Dawn. Everything was missing, including all of her books, her radio, her CD player and CD's, nothing that Spike remembered was anywhere to be seen. The bed was still in the same location, but pushed out further from the wall. Looking around quickly, Spike couldn't see Dawn anywhere. But taking in a breath of air, Spike could smell her scent. Letting himself concentrate, he could also hear her heart beat, coming from behind the bed, next to the wall. Quietly he walked across the room to the foot of the bed and looking down at the floor he could see his Niblet laying on a pile of blankets, wearing his old leather duster. Still being very quiet, Spike knelt down on the floor at her feet and just looked at her laying there.

Looking at Dawn was like a physical pain to Spikes soul. It was like bands of hot steel were wrapped around his heart, squeezing tightly. Feelings of guilt, remorse, and sorrow filled his mind, bringing tears to his eyes. Dawn was lying on her side with her back against the wall, her legs were pulled up, almost in a fetal position. She was wearing his leather duster and her hands were grasping the front of it, holding it close around her. He could see that her hair was dirty and greasy from not being washed, and breathing in he could tell that she hadn't bathed for a long time. Sitting on the floor, half under the bed, was an empty can of Spaghetti-O's with a dirty spoon still in the can. Seeing her like this was more than Spike could deal with and a low moan escaped his lips.

The moan that escaped Spike was low, but apparently it was loud enough to awaken Dawn. When her eyes popped open and she saw Spike kneeling at her feet, she flinched away from him and drew herself up into an even tighter ball. Seeing her reaction, Spike flinched back from Dawn, but unconsciously one of his nicknames for her escaped his lips "Bit".

Dawns eyes widened immediately as she stared at Spike for several seconds. Then moving faster than Spike had ever seen her move before, Dawn twisted her legs up under herself and threw herself at Spike. Dawn slammed against Spikes chest with a thud as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck and held on tightly. Her face was buried against his chest as if she were trying to burrow inside of him. She started talking and crying at the same time, her voice was desperate, pleading. "Spike, your back! Please don't go! Please don't leave me! Spike I love you! Don't leave me Spike! I need you! I love you Spike! I need you! Please don't leave me!" Dawn kept repeating these same and similar things over and over as she cried. Spike kept his arms wrapped around Dawn and speaking to her lowly, he kept repeating "I'm back Niblet. I won't leave you. I love you too. I need you too. I love you Bit. I won't leave you. I'll never leave you again."

Buffy had stood back when Spike had knelt down at Dawns feet. She had witnessed the tears that came to his eyes and heard the moan that escaped his lips. When Dawn had woken up suddenly and flinched away from him, Buffy saw the pain flash across his face. She also witnessed Dawn launching herself from the floor into Spikes arms and heard all the things she said to him, just as she heard all the things he said to her. With tears running down her face Buffy backed out of the room and closed the door behind her. Neither Spike or Dawn noticed her leaving.

When Buffy entered the living room, the conversation between Giles and Willow ended. Buffy sat down on the couch next to Willow. Tears were running down her face. She bent over and buried her face against her knees as she wrapped both arms up around her head. She was crying and sobbing so hard her whole body was shaking. Willow was immediately down off the couch, kneeling on the floor next to Buffy, wrapping her arm over Buffys back to hold on to her while she brought the other hand up to Buffys head and tried to clasp one of her hands. Giles had gotten out of his chair quickly and was kneeling down in front of Buffy, he also had one hand up trying to take one of her hands. Both of them had assumed that things had gone badly upstairs and were trying to sooth Buffy. They were both saying things like "I'm so sorry Buffy." "We could only hope Buffy, we couldn't be sure it would work." "Maybe if Spike is willing to try again tomorrow it will go better the next time." "I'm sorry it didn't work Buffy."

When Buffy suddenly sat up straight it surprised both Willow and Giles. Tears were still flowing from her eyes, but she had a real smile on her face. It was kind of twisted, but it was real, the first in a long time. Grasping both Willows and Giles hands she gave them a squeeze. Trying to talk through her tears, Buffy gasped out "Their together, holding each other. She loves him so much. He loves her too. Their both up there crying, but it's okay, their both okay. He told her he wouldn't ever leave her again. She's happy. She's crying, but I think she's happy."

"Thank God, Buffy" Giles said with all sincerity "Thank God!"

Releasing Giles hand so that she could wipe some of the tears away from her eyes, Buffy looked at Giles and said truthfully "Right now, I'm just thanking Spike, for coming home."

(10/05)

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	3. The Return Part 31

The Return Part 3 - The Hand (of God)  
(1 of 2)

Spike sat on the floor with his back against the wall, cradling Dawn in his arms. His right leg was extended forward, going under the foot of Dawns bed. His left leg was bent at the knee, his foot flat on the floor. Dawn was wrapped in his duster, both hands in front, one clutching it closed around her, the other fisted in his shirt. She was lying on her right side, legs drawn up, mostly covered by the coat. His left arm was wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her up against him so that her head rested in the crook of his arm and her forehead rested against the left side of his chest. His bent left leg helping to hold her in place. His right arm and hand were laid over her waist, pulling her in against him.

Dawn was sleeping now, she had resisted for awhile, tried to fight off the sleep. But eventually exhaustion, and a feeling of safety, had finally been to much for her and she had drifted off into a deep sleep. As she lay in his arms, Spike studied Dawn closely. His Niblet had grown up a lot in the past three years, she wasn't the young teenaged girl he'd taken care of that summer after ….. the tower. She was taller now, maybe even as tall as him? But she felt too thin in his arms, bony. Rupert had mentioned that she wasn't eating right, wasting away he'd said. Her face looked thin, maybe from not eating, but fear and stress could do that to a person too.  
Studying her face he could see some of the scars that Rupert had mentioned. There was a patch on her forehead that looked as if the old skin had been abraded away. Maybe from someone kicking her with a hard shoe or boot on. There were several smaller scars on the plane of her cheek and jaw bone where someone had hit her and broke the skin. By the looks of it they had probably been wearing a ring or two. The worst of the scars that he could see were the ones across her lips. Someone had either hit her with something or kicked her in the mouth. Both the upper and lower lips had been completely torn open, a good half inch or more for both lips. He could also see, through her partially opened mouth, that three or four teeth were missing at the impact point.

From the outside, looking at Spike, no one could have told from his face what he was thinking and feeling. But inside, he was raging that someone could have hurt his Niblet so badly. It was only his soul, and the assurance from it that there would be retribution, that allowed him to keep his emotions from coming to the surface. Bending his head down Spike gently place a soft kiss on the top of Dawns head. Dawns reaction to his touch was to burrow her face against his chest and let out a soft quiet sigh.

Letting his head rest against the wall behind him, Spike ruminated over their first moments together after she first woke up, the crying, their words to each other. Dawn had cried so hard, had held on to him so tightly, it was like she was afraid that if she let go of him he would disappear, or maybe not have really been there at all. She had told him she loved him, and begged him not to leave her, that she needed him. Spike had told her that he loved her too, that he needed her too, and that he would never leave her again. A determined look came to Spikes eyes as he made a promise to himself, and to Dawn, that he would never leave her again, for as long as she needed him. He also made a promise to himself that he would do whatever it would take to make his Niblet feel safe and whole again. Thinking about that, he started running ideas through his mind, what he needed to do.

Although most people, humans and demons alike, that knew Spike wouldn't have thought of him as being much of a thinker or a planner, they would have been wrong. Spike had always thought things out and made plans, it was just that his own impatience would get the better of him and he would act spontaneously and mess up his own plans. But since getting his soul back, Spike had learned to be more patient, he was calmer now, more thoughtful, more in control of himself and his actions.  
The first thing he needed to do was to get Dawn to start eating again. He thought about it for a few minutes and then a smile came to his face, he knew what to do and how to get Dawn to go along with it. Then he would need to get her to start bathing again. It wasn't that Spike was offended by Dawns odor or anything, but he knew that her lack of bathing was due to her depression. His feeling was that if he could get her to start bathing again, maybe she would start feeling a little better. He knew that taking a bath wasn't a cure all or anything, but he knew he felt better after a hot shower and he was undead, so maybe it would work on Dawn as well. Once he got her eating and bathing, his next step would be to get her to go outside. He knew he would have to take that step carefully, he didn't want to scare her back into her room and have to start all over again. As he sat there thinking about it he decided that was enough for now, a few small steps, see how they worked out, then plan for more.

When Spike and Giles had arrived the previous evening it had been around 10:00PM. The stress of the initial meeting with Spike had been so intense that Buffy wasn't sure how much time had passed before he had asked to go up to see Dawn, it couldn't have been more than ten or fifteen minutes though. Taking him up to Dawn, seeing them crying and holding each other, coming back downstairs, crying her heart out, being soothed and regaining control of herself had taken awhile. Before Buffy knew it, it was past midnight. Giles took Willow home, both of them promising to come back over the next morning. She'd sat downstairs alone for awhile, calming herself before going upstairs. She'd gone down the hallway quietly and had stood outside Dawns door, listening. She could hear Spikes voice, but not what he was saying, she didn't hear Dawns voice at all. Going to her room she'd undressed and slipped on light weight sweat pants and a tank top, then gone to bed. She'd laid there for awhile, she didn't know how long, thinking, almost praying, that this would all work out alright, that it had to, and slipped into sleep.

Waking up suddenly Buffy threw back her covers and quickly got out of bed. She opened her door and hurried down the hallway to Dawns room. Only when she got to the door did she slow down. Quickly, but quietly she opened the door and slipped into the room. On the balls of her feet and toes, she hurried over to the bed, where she could see Dawn cradled in Spikes arms on the floor. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Seeing that Dawn was safe, and sleeping peacefully brought tears to her eyes. It had been months since Dawn had slept a night through without waking up screaming from her nightmares. Glancing up from Dawns face to Spikes, Buffy could see that his eyes were looking at her intently. Reading the message in his eyes took her breath away. Wiping the tears from her eyes with her fingers, Buffy gave Spike a half way smile. Then mouthing the words, but not saying them out loud, she said "Thank You". She then backed up and left the room as quietly as she had entered it. Going back down the hall to her own room she closed the door behind her and got back into bed. Buffy laid there stiffly for several minutes, then rolling over onto her stomach she buried her face in her pillow and started crying. Before she had tried to smile at Spike, before she had mouthed the words 'Thank You' to him, she had seen his eyes as he stared up at her. Buffy had seen fear in Spikes eyes, and she knew that she was the reason he was afraid. Knowing that Spike loved Dawn enough to come back to Sunnydale to try to help her should have made Buffy happy, and in a hundred ways it did. But at the same time, knowing that Spike was afraid of her, that he thought she might harm him, for any reason, made her cry more. Knowing that he had reasons to be afraid of her made her cry harder.

It was probably an hour or so before sunup that Spike felt Buffy coming down the hall quickly. Fear gripped his heart, something was wrong, but what? The door had opened quietly and Buffy had entered quietly, but as Spike looked up at her he could see the worry and fear in her eyes. Her first look had been at Dawn, to see that she was safe, and he had heard her sigh. But when she had raised her eyes to his he had seen that there were tears in her eyes. Seeing her tears had brought a stab of pain to Spikes heart, and his soul. Without even thinking about it he assumed that somehow he was the reason for her fear, and her tears. It was only when she smiled at him crookedly and had mouthed the words 'Thank You' at him that he let doubt enter his mind. But Buffy had left the room immediately, so he wasn't sure. Spike sat there for a long time trying to understand what had just happened. Why had Buffy been so afraid? Why had he become so afraid when she came into the room?

When Giles and Spike had shown up the previous morning the only reason that they had found anyone awake was because no one had gone to bed yet from the night before. After they arrived, and Spike was ensconced in the 'guest room' on the fourth floor, Angel was to worked up to go to bed. Cordelia had felt she had to stay up with him to keep him calmed down. All day long he had brooded and it was only Cordelia's presence that had kept him in his office and away from Spike. When Giles had returned that afternoon she had left them alone to discuss the young men at the Delta Zeta Kappas fraternity house and the evil lawyers at Wolfram & Hart. From her office next to Angel's, Cordelia had half listened to what they were talking about and several times she had heard Angel try to worm information out of Giles about Spike. Angel had asked Giles a number of questions that Giles had put off answering. But, in the end, Angel had insisted on knowing why Spike had come back, it wasn't as if anyone wanted him back or needed him. Giles had become angry and had snapped out that actually there were a number of people that wanted Spike back, Buffy and Dawn for two, and himself for another. As for being needed, Dawn needed him, and that was all that mattered or should matter, to anyone.

Cordelia had gone in to join them then and to calm things down. She knew that Angel was aware of how Dawn felt about Spike and that it had always rubbed him the wrong way. Dawn had 'never' really liked Angel, or trusted him, even with a soul. But she had 'always' liked and trusted Spike, and he was soulless. Once she had the situation calmed down, she suggested that maybe they should all think about getting something to eat. Giles told her that he had eaten out that afternoon with a business acquaintance and wasn't feeling hungry at this time, but they should probably wake Spike up so that he could feed because he hadn't eaten since they were in ….. Europe.

Cordelia had caught on immediately that Giles had avoided saying where in Europe he and Spike had been and was certain that Angel had caught it too. Angel reached out with his vampire senses and announced that Spike was already awake and was in the kitchen with Fred and Lorne. He then added a snide remark that Spike was probably making a pig of himself on the free blood. Giles had gotten an angry look on his face and standing up had announced that he was going to join Spike. Angel and Cordelia had followed him out of the office and had led the way to the kitchen. That was when they walked in on Spike, with Fred in his arms. That's when things really went to hell. Angel had stormed off all hurt and angry, Lorne had left for Caritas after Giles and Spike had left, Fred had gone up to the 'guest room' to straighten it up before going to her own room, and Cordelia had said 'the hell with it' and had gone to bed.

So here she was, twelve hours later and wide awake. In Cordelia's mind, "Good Morning" was an oxymoron, there was nothing 'good' about 'morning', well, unless you were getting ready to go to bed, maybe. Cordelia harrumphed to herself as she came down the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Angel hadn't come home last night, so she wasn't in the best of moods anyway. She just knew that he was off somewhere brooding and that he would probably be impossible to be around for the next couple of days. 'It's all Spikes fault' Cordelia thought to herself, 'if he hadn't shown up yesterday, thing would be fine now'. Once she made it to the kitchen she started a pot of coffee and while it perked she made herself a piece of dry toast and poured herself a small glass of orange juice. She had just finished her toast and juice and was pouring herself a cup of coffee when Fred walked into the kitchen.

Fred was in a happy mood and gave Cordelia a bright and cheery "Good Morning" as she poured herself a large mug of coffee, then pulled a box of 'pop tarts' out of a cabinet. She sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar where Cordelia was sitting and proceeded to dunk her 'pop tart' in her coffee and munch away happily. In between bites she was humming some moldy oldie pop tune happy song. Cordelia nearly growled at her.

Fred may have been in a happy mood, but she wasn't dense, one look at Cordelia's face told her something was up. "Is something wrong, Cordy? You look out of sorts this morning."

With her snippy mood coming out in her tone of voice, Cordelia answered. "Yeah, you could say that. What was with you and Spike all lovie dovie last night? And this morning, your acting like you just got home from the best date ever, what's with that?"

Fred got a slight blush to her cheeks, but a smile was on her lips. "There was nothing lovie dovie between Spike and me. We were just giving each other a hug, that's all. Ya know, friends can do that, it makes them feel good." With a little defensiveness coming into her voice, Fred continued. "And this morning? Hey, I had a good nights sleep, had happy dreams, why shouldn't I feel good about it?"

Cordelia got a blush to her own cheeks as she realized what she had sounded like just a few moments earlier. Softening her voice, and with real concern, she said "But, Fred, …. I don't get it! Yesterday morning you'd never even met Spike, and in like just a few minutes you were all smiles and giggles and taking him up to your parents room to sleep. I mean, you were acting like he was your long lost boyfriend, or something? And last night, with the hugging and stuff?" A thought came to Cordelia's mind and her eyes got big as her mouth dropped open at the thought. In a rush she gasped out "Thrall! He had you in his thrall, didn't he? Did he hurt you? You know they can do that, hurt you I mean, when your under a vampires thrall they can make you do anything. Willow told me that Dracula had Buffy under his thrall once, and she let him bite her. Spike didn't bite you, did he?" Cordelia was so worried, and so certain she was right, that she jumped down from her stool and hurried over to Fred to check her neck for bite marks.

Fred was shocked at first by what Cordelia had just said, then she started giggling uncontrollably. Tilting her head from side to side to show Cordelia her neck, as soon as she had her giggles under control she gasped out "No bites, Cordy, no thrall."

Once Cordelia was certain that there weren't any bite marks, looking at Fred with puzzlement on her face she said, "Then I don't get it? If it wasn't thrall, then why all the hugging and kisses and hand holding and 'come back soon' crap?"

Feeling just a little insulted by Cordelia referring to what had occurred between her and Spike as 'crap', Fred's brows drew together as a frown spread over her face. She knew that Cordelia meant well, but still. "It wasn't crap, Cordy! There wasn't any kissing, except for a kiss on the cheek, and the hugs and hand holding, that's what friends do, ya know. And I would like for Spike to come back soon, and I'm not the only one. I'll bet if you ask Lorne or Connor, they'd both like for him to come back too."

Cordelia realized that what Fred had just said was true. Lorne had been both friendly toward Spike and defensive of him when Angel had accused Spike of trying to harm Fred in some way. Lorne had acted like Angel was the one acting badly. As far as Connor went, Cordelia didn't know how he felt about Spike, but Fred seemed pretty convinced that Connor wouldn't mind if he returned. With her mind spinning and a completely puzzled look on her face, Cordelia said it again, "I don't get it"  
Fred seemed to take pity on her and replied "What's to get, Cordy? Spikes 'special', anyone who really looks at him can see that. Spike wouldn't hurt me, or you or Lorne or Connor or even Angel. Ya know, if you gave yourself half a chance, I'd bet you'd like him too." Saying this, Fred got up from her seat, walked over to the coffee pot, refilled her mug and left the kitchen.

Cordelia sat there by herself trying to make sense out of what Fred had just said, it still didn't make any sense to her. Absentmindedly she opened a 'pop tart' and started nibbling on it. She thought about Spike, she'd never really known him, but she remembered him from Sunnydale and remembered that he use to scare the hell out of her. She also remembered when he kidnapped Angel and tortured him to get the Ring of Amara back. That had been a really scary time too. She remembered Willow telling her something in the past, something about Spike having had some kind of 'chip' put into his head by some secret government group that kept him from hurting humans. She wondered how that worked exactly?

Before Cordelia could take her thoughts any further she realized that she had just opened her second 'pop tart' and was half way through eating it. In a panic she jumped up and rushed over to the trash can and spit out what was still in her mouth as she threw the remainder of the 'pop tart' into the trash. Grabbing up the box the 'pop tarts' came in she counted how many calories were in each one. Pushing every other thought out of her mind she hurried down to the workout room in the basement, she needed to burn those calories off now, before they had a chance to turn into fat.

As Dawn started to wake up, she had this feeling inside her that she was safe. It occurred to her through the muzziness of waking from a deep sleep that she hadn't felt that way in a long time. As she continued to wake she realized that someone was holding her in their arms. Panic started setting in and her heart started beating faster. But before she could go into a full panic, a familiar soft voice said quietly "Niblet, your safe love. I promise, I won't let anyone hurt you." Recognition of the voice came next, holding her breath she opened her eyes, looking up she could see Spikes face as he stared down at her, concern for her written on his face. Long moments passed as they stared at each other. Tentatively, as if speaking might make him disappear, Dawn asked in a hushed whisper of a voice "Are you real?" As she watched a tear ran down Spikes cheek. When he spoke his voice was still soft, but filled with emotion "Yeah love, I'm real. I'm real and I'm back to stay."

Slowly reaching up with one hand, Dawn touched Spikes tear with her finger, she could feel the wetness. Bringing her finger down before her eyes she could see it. Bringing it to her lips she tasted the saltiness. Looking up at Spike as he held her in his arms, she felt safe. Smiling up at him she said "Yeah, you are." After a few moments of silence, she added "I've missed you." As she watched another tear broke free from Spikes eye and ran down his cheek. Tightening his hold around her shoulders, hugging her against him tighter, his voice so choked with emotion he could barely get the words out, Spike said "I've missed you too, love. So very very much." Bending his head down he kissed her softly on her forehead. Turning her face into Spikes chest, Dawn closed her eyes as she breathed in Spikes scent, mumbling in a voice he could barely hear, she said "Good."

Spike held Dawn in his arms, he watched her breath, listened to her heart beat, felt her relax in his arms as if all the stress and tension in her body was melting away. He knew that the reasons for the stress and tension, the reasons for her fears, hadn't left her, but right now, at this moment, they weren't what she was thinking about. Right now she was feeling safe, and that was all that was important to him. When Dawn finally did speak, it was almost a surprise to hear her voice, because she sounded so much like she had in the past, before he'd left. "When you hold me like this, I can hear my heart beating inside of you." Opening her eyes she looked up into Spike's and could see the love he felt for her in them. "Do you know what I mean?"

Spike smiled down at Dawn and said quietly "Explain it to me, love, so's I will."

Taking a breath, but never taking her eyes away from Spikes, Dawn explained. "Remember, when Buffy was gone, you'd hold me sometimes?" When Spike nodded his head, she continued. "See, I was younger then and I didn't understand some things. I mean, I knew you were undead and stuff, but it hadn't really hit me that your heart didn't beat. You understand?" Spike nodded his head again, listening closely to every word his Niblet said. "So, one night you were holding me, I think I'd been crying or something, and I was trying to hear your heart beat, and I couldn't. So I started listening real hard, and after awhile I could hear it, beating I mean. It made me real happy that I could hear your heart beating, cause it kind of scared me when I couldn't. But, a few days later I said something to Tara about it, and she told me that what I'd been hearing was my own heart beating. At first it kind of bothered me, but then I thought about it and thought it was kind of cool. I know now that what I was thinking wasn't what Tara had meant at the time, but back then it just seemed really cool that my heart was beating inside of you. I still feel that way, hearing my heart beating inside of you, it's still cool, and it makes me happy."

Spike smiled at Dawn, even as another tear ran down his face. "Ah Niblet, you've got the biggest and bravest heart in the world. It makes me proud, love, that you'd share yours with me. An you know something? It makes me happy too."

Dawn smiled up at Spike and turning her head she kissed his chest, right over his heart.

Spike continued to hold Dawn in his arms and would have probably been content to do so for the rest of the day, or longer. But as he held her he could hear her stomach making noises. Not loud noises, or embarrassing noises, but he could hear them anyway. He knew that she was hungry, and he also knew that she hadn't been eating much in the way of good healthy food for several months. Thinking about his plan, he decided now was the time to take the first step.

Taking in a deep breath to calm himself, Spike started talking "Bit, we need to talk. It's kind of important." He felt Dawns body grow a little stiffer in his arms and her heart beat picked up a few beats. "I want you to know that I know what happened to you, most of it anyway." Dawn became stiffer and her heart started beating faster than before. Dawn started to say something, but Spike brought his hand up to her face and place one finger lightly over her lips. "No, love, just listen to me for a minute, okay? I know what happened, mostly, but we don't have to talk about it, okay? Not unless you want to, okay?" Spike waited and although Dawns heart was beating fast now, she kept eye contact with him as she nodded her head. "I want you to know that I came back to Sunnydale for you. Just for you, okay. I didn't even know what had happened to you when I agreed to come back, okay. The Watcher said you needed me, that's all it took to get me to come back, okay." Spike waited again for Dawn to nod her acknowledgement. "I want you to understand this, I'm here for you Bit. I'm not going anywhere, I'm not going to leave again, I'm here for as long as you need me, okay." When Dawn nodded her head this time, Spike noticed that some of the tension had left her body and her heart had slowed a little.  
"But, there's another problem and I need your help with it." Spike closed his eyes for a few moments while he took several deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again he could see that he had Dawns full attention. "You ….. know why I left, what I ….. tried …. to do …… to Buffy." Dawn barely moved her head, but Spike could feel it when she did. "I could say I'm sorry Dawn, and please believe me, I am sorry. But that doesn't change anything, does it? I know Buffy hates me, and she should, she's got a right to hate me. But she loves you more than she hates me, pet, so much more. Buffy's the one who sent Rupert to find me, to ask me to come back for you." Spike paused to make sure Dawn had time to digest that information. "But you see, there's the problem. Buffy would do anything for you Niblet, anything at all. But having me around here is going to be hard on her, you know what I mean?" Spike waited for Dawn to nod her head before he continued. "Having me around the house, coming into a room and finding me there, it's not going to be easy for her. So, I was thinking that maybe if we stick together, wherever you go I go, wherever I go you go, maybe that will make it easier on her. If she comes walking into a room, she won't find herself all alone with me, ya see?"

Dawn had been watching Spike as he spoke to her and she could easily read the pain that he was feeling in his eyes. Dawn had known from the moment that she heard what happened that Spike had never intended to harm or hurt Buffy. She knew it in her heart that Spike had loved Buffy, even if no one else had ever believed it was possible for him to love. She knew it was true because she knew in her heart that Spike had loved her too. Before Spike could say anymore, Dawn placed her fingers over his lips. Speaking softly, but loud enough that she knew Spike could hear her, Dawn said "I don't think Buffy hates you Spike."

Spike shook his head in the negative, but didn't say anything for a few moments. When he did speak his voice was thick with emotion. "You might be right, Bit. Hating someone, that takes a lot of energy out of a person, makes them weak. Your sis, she was never one to give in to weakness. But there is something that she is, Bit, she's afraid of me." Dawn started to say something, maybe to deny Spikes words, but he spoke before she could. "Believe me, love, I know fear in someone's eyes when I see it. I saw it in Buffys eyes once before, on that night. When she looks at me, that same look is still there." A tear broke free from one of Spikes eyes, it was followed by another, and another. Wiping the tears away with his fingers, Spike paused long enough to take several breaths. He cleared his throat, then spoke again, his voice a little more determined. "That's what I need your help with, Bit. I need you to stick with me, when Buffys at home, so she won't have to be alone with me, so she won't have to be afraid of me." Dawn could see how important this was to Spike, and without giving it to much consideration, she nodded her head in agreement. "Thank you, Bit" Spike said, his voice barely a whisper.

They both sat quietly for several minutes, not moving or saying anything. Spike was using this time to pull his emotions together and to bring himself under control. When he did move and start talking, it was almost as if a different Spike had entered the room. Lifting Dawn up to an upright position and sliding her off his lap, Spike got his legs under him and rose to his feet. Reaching down he then pulled Dawn up to her feet. Giving her a grin, he started talking. "Alright, love, it's time we made our way downstairs." Seeing the sudden reluctance in Dawns eyes, Spike ducked his head a bit and looking up at Dawn a bit bashfully, he told her "See Bit, the truth of it is, I'm a bit famished. All this crying and stuff, it sort of wears me out. Big Sis, she said there was some blood in the frig for me, but I don't want to go down after it alone." Dawn started to protest, but remembered her promise to stick with Spike, and just nodded her head instead. Spike gave Dawn a big smile in appreciation, then taking her hand in his he led her out of the bedroom, down the hall and stairs and into the kitchen. They made the trip quick enough, and with Spike holding her hand, Dawn didn't even have time to think about getting scared .  
Once they were in the kitchen Spike opened the refrigerator and found the brown paper bag that contained several bags of pigs blood. Taking one out, he got a coffee mug out of a cabinet, filled it with the blood and started it to warm in the microwave. While the blood warmed up, Spike stood at the open refrigerator door and made a sighing sound. When Dawn asked him what was wrong, Spike asked her to promise not to tell the Watcher, then told her that having spent the past three years all over Europe, he had really missed American food. Before Dawn knew she was doing it, Spike had her helping him to make pancakes. He swore to her that he loved pancakes, especially if they were covered with melted butter and lots of maple syrup. They made a big mess, spilling some of the pancake mix and dropping an egg on the floor. They had both laughed over the mess they were making and promised to help each other clean it up. But by the time they were done, Spike had a big plate full of hot pancakes. Dawn had insisted that she didn't want any of the pancakes, but Spike had barely taken more than two or three bites before she had her own fork and was eating off his plate. Being completely casual about it, Spike poured Dawn a glass of milk and set it before her, while he drank his blood and ate his pancakes.

That was when Buffy walked in on them. Buffy had sensed Spike long before she reached the kitchen and as she approached it she had heard them talking to each other. Stepping through the doorway she saw both Spike and Dawn with their mouths full of pancakes and Dawn had a half empty glass of milk in front of her. Looking quickly around the room she immediately saw the mess, but was so grateful that Dawn was eating something, she wasn't going to say anything.  
As soon as Spike saw Buffy he was up off his stool and started mumbling an apology and not making eye contact. Dawn was up off her stool too, and had placed herself between Buffy and Spike. Dawn hurried out with an explanation that they were going to clean up the mess, as soon as they finished eating, but they'd do it now instead. Buffy had insisted that they finish eating and that she would do the clean up. Spike and Dawn sat back down and started eating again, but Spike seemed to have lost his appetite and Dawn ended up eating most of the food. Several times Dawn had reached out and touched Spikes hand or arm, as if she were reassuring him that everything was alright. As soon as they were done they both hurried out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to Dawns room.

Dawn and Spike had just gone up the stairs when there was a knock on the front door. When Buffy answered it was Giles. Motioning to him to be quiet she led him back to the kitchen and showed him the mess and the dirty dishes. She explained that she thought both she and Dawn had just been manipulated by a Master Vampire. She told him the story, Spike getting Dawn out of her room, both of them making pancakes and a mess, Dawn eating, Dawn defending Spike and trying to protect him from Buffy, everything. When she finished telling the last of it, Buffy sat down on the stool that Spike had been sitting on and started crying.

Seeing Buffy cry, as it always did, completely flustered Giles. He never seemed to know what to do or say in these situations. Tentatively Giles patted Buffy on the shoulder, trying to sooth her distress. But truthfully he didn't understand what she was crying about. "Buffy, I don't understand. In less than twelve hours Spike has had more positive results with Dawn than any of us have had in months. I would think you would be overjoyed."

Wiping the tears away from her eyes, Buffy tried to explain. "Giles, if it was just what Spike has been able to do with Dawn, I'd be jumping for joy. But, Giles, he's afraid of me. Every time I look at him I can see it in his eyes. It's like he's expecting me to stake him any minute." Buffy picked up a paper napkin and blew her nose, then wiped more tears away from her eyes. "Giles, I don't want him to be afraid of me. I don't want him to think that I'd hurt him, and I don't want Dawn to think I'd hurt him either."

Giles read between the lines and understood things Buffy wasn't saying. "My dear child, I am so sorry that this is all so painful for you. If what you think is true, that Spike manipulated the situation this morning to get Dawn to stand up for him, I am sure that it wasn't done with the intention of hurting you in anyway. Believe me Buffy, I am completely convinced that Spike wouldn't do anything to deliberately harm you. But I am equally convinced that he would do almost anything to help Dawn, even if that meant hurting himself. If you had seen his reaction when I told him what happened to Dawn, I fervently pray that I never see anyone else suffer such emotional pain again. A lesser man would have never survived it."

Buffy sat looking at Giles for more than a minute before she said anything. When she did speak her voice had a questioning, curious, puzzled tone to it. "Giles? What's going on? You just referred to Spike as a man, and you even admitted that he has emotions and feelings. You've never done that before."

"Buffy, over the past few days I have spent some very informative time with Spike and I have learned some things I would not have ever believed possible. Some of the things I have learned, Spike has asked me not to tell you. Although I did not promise, I feel obligated to meet his request, at least for now. All I can say at this time is that Spike is not the person you once knew. He is the same, but he is greatly different. I believe that if you look at him with both open eyes and open mind you will discover his secrets soon enough."

That first day, mixed in with stories of some of his adventures in Europe, Spike explained to Dawn the impossibility of poisoning the food supply of a town the size of Sunnydale. That because there were so many places to buy food and so many different kinds of food and no way to predict who would buy what or when or where, that it just couldn't be done. To prove his point, that evening while Buffy was still out on patrol, Spike called a pizza place at random from the phone book and had a large pizza delivered. He sat in front of Dawn and ate two pieces with her watching, just to prove that the food wasn't poisoned. Before he could pick up a third piece, Dawn snatched the one he was reaching for out of his fingers. He gave her a big eyed stare, as if she'd just done something horrible, and they both broke into laughter. Dawn didn't even realize it, but she ended up eating more than half the pizza herself.

On the second day, once Buffy had left the house, Spike wanted to explore. Dawn stayed by his side and they ended up in the basement. Spike could see immediately what Buffy had done with the basement to try to make it more comfortable for him, and he did appreciate it. But at the same time it reminded him of his old crypt and that made him feel badly. For the past two years Spike had been living in apartments, first in Rome and then in Paris, the dank and slightly mildewish smell of the basement was depressing. As they explored the corners of the room, Spike came across a stack of boxes that contained all the things from Dawns room. Some things were torn, some broken, but most were intact. Not making a big fuss about it, Spike started sorting through one of the boxes pulling out a few books and some CD's. In another box he found a radio/CD player. Not really asking Dawn if it was alright he carried what he'd picked out up to her room. Before long there was music playing loudly in the background while Spike read out loud from the third Harry Potter book. He told Dawn that he'd missed that one, and by the fifth chapter of the book he had her reading out loud alternate chapters with him, to save his voice.

Buffy had worked that afternoon and early evening. She was planning on taking a shower and changing before going out on patrol. As she approached the house she could hear the loud music coming from the house. Circling the house until she was under the window to Dawns room, Buffy could hear Dawn reading loudly from a book. She then heard Spike say something and Dawn reply, then both of them laughing. Buffy continued around the house and sat down on the back porch steps. Sitting there, hearing the loud music in the back ground, silent tears ran down Buffys face. After awhile Buffy got up and left for patrol without a shower or changing, she needed to find something to kill, to make her feel better.

On the third day, Spike made a remark to Dawn that he really needed to take a shower and change his cloths, because he was really starting to smell bad. Dawn made the comment that she thought he smelled fine. In an off handed way, Spike replied that Dawn couldn't possibly tell what he smelled like over her own smell. Dawn looked at him, all offended, and wouldn't speak to him for almost an hour. When she finally did speak it was to ask him if she really did smell bad. Spike acted all hesitant, but finally admitted that she was a bit ripe, not that he really minded or anything. He told her that he had grown up in a time when some people went their whole lives without bathing, and she didn't smell anywhere near as bad as they use to smell. Dawn had shed a few tears, gathered up clean cloths, and had silently gone to the bathroom and taken a long hot shower, washing her hair three times. When she came back to her room, Spike spent an hour drying her hair and combing it out for her until it glowed with health and beauty.

Because, now that she smelled all nice and clean, Dawn told Spike it was his turn to do the same. This was when Spike had his first panic attack. He'd brought his bags up to Dawns room the second day, because he knew he wasn't going to be spending any time in the basement, at least not for awhile. Getting clean cloths out of his bag had been no problem, but stepping out into the hallway and looking at the bathroom door had frozen Spike in place. Dawn became aware of Spikes distress within moments and it only took her a few moments more to understand what it was about. Taking him by the arm, Dawn led and pulled Spike down the hall until he was standing in front of the bathroom door.  
Looking into his eyes, Dawn could see that Spike was replaying that night with Buffy, and she could see that his eyes were filled with pain and remorse. Reaching out she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. Looking into the room she could see that there were wet towels still on the floor from where she'd left them, and she hadn't cleaned out the tub yet either. Trying to make a joke of the mess, Dawn pulled Spike into the bathroom and had him wiping up the water on the floor with the wet towels while she rinsed out the tub. Dropping the towels down the laundry chute to the basement, Dawn got fresh towels from the hall closet and brought them into the bathroom. Still trying to keep Spike from freaking out, Dawn stood outside the door, leaning against it, and talked loudly to Spike the whole time he was in there.

She tried to make a joke that Spike was taking longer to shower than she had, but she got no response from him. She started making cracks about not having the right kind of bubble bath for him, because as long as it was taking him he must surely be taking one. She asked if he needed any hair gel, because if he did they'd need to contact Angel and have him send some down, cause it should arrive by the time Spike was done. Spike had responded to that wisecrack, which only egged Dawn on to say more things about Angel. How Angel was 'so pretty' with his hair all gelled up and spiky. How he could stand in a wind storm and never have a hair move out of place. Spike had been barking back responses about what a ponce and a poof Angel was, that he'd never use the same gel that Angel used because it was scented, that Angel wore lifts to make him taller. When Spike finally pulled the door open on Dawn, and she almost fell into the bathroom, he was showered, dressed, and not a speck of hair gel on his head. Spike gave Dawn a grumpy kind of look, as if she had been insulting him, but Dawn knew things were better, because the intense pain wasn't in his eyes any longer.

That night when Buffy got home from patrol she found Spike, with Dawn curled up in his arms, watching an old movie on TV. Her first thought was to sit down with them, to watch whatever they were watching, to talk. Since Spikes arrival four nights earlier they'd hardly been in the same room together or said anything to each other. But as she entered the room Buffy became aware that Spike was lost in thought, that he wasn't really paying any attention to the movie at all. She noticed that Dawn had both of her hands around one of Spikes hands, holding on to him, as if she were the one trying to make him feel safe. Buffy didn't know what was going on, but she had the feeling that she was a part of whatever the problem was that Spike was having. Putting a fake smile on her face, Buffy just said 'Good Night' to both of them, quietly, and left the room, going upstairs to her bedroom. Buffy laid down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling for several hours before she finally drifted off to a troubled sleep.

It took two more days to get Dawn to go outside. It wasn't far, just the back porch, but it was a first step. Spike had been controlling his need for cigarettes during the daytime, but every evening he would step out onto the back porch and smoke a couple. At first, Dawn had stood inside the kitchen, with the door closed, and watched Spike smoke. She then started opening the door a little so that she could talk to him. Next the door was open wider and she was standing in the open doorway. Finally, she came out onto the porch and sat down on the steps next to him. They ended up sitting out there for several hours, talking and looking up at the stars.

It wasn't until the middle of the second week that they started talking about what had happened to Dawn, she was the one who brought it up. That was also when she let him see her scars, most of them. Since his arrival, and for months before that, Dawn was hardly ever without Spikes old duster. When she started to show him her scars, and had to take it off, she almost had a panic attack. Spike held both of her hands until she calmed down, reassuring her that she wasn't alone, that he would keep her safe. Most of the scars were small, they looked like someone had used the tip of a sharp knife to make small cuts, but there were a lot of them. Other scars were the obvious result of cigarette and cigar burns. Someone had used her body as a place to put them out. There were other scars that she wouldn't show him where someone had held the flat side of a hot knife blade against her skin. By the time that Dawn had finished showing and telling him about her scars, Spike was crying a steady stream of tears. Every nick, cut and burn mark on her body made Spikes soul burn with guilt and shame for not being there to protect Dawn. It also burned with a desire to avenge what had happened to her. His soul kept telling him that he would get his chance for retribution, but not yet, not until Dawn was better. For some reason, seeing the way her scars affected Spike, the pain that each one brought to him, Dawn didn't break down or cry while she showed Spike what had been done to her.

Giles and Willow had been stopping by almost everyday, just to see how things were going. Spike had spent some time talking with Giles, but had avoided Willow almost as much as he avoided Buffy. The day after Spike had seen Dawns scars he decided that he needed to speak to Willow. It took two more days for the right time to occur, but when it did, Dawn left the room so that they could be alone. Spike had already mentioned to Dawn that he wanted to speak to Willow alone, to tell her how sorry he was about the loss of Tara. Once they were alone Willow became even more nervous around him than usual. He ignored her case of the nerves and told her how sorry he was when he learned of Tara's death. He told her how much he had always liked the gentle witch and that he grieved with her for her loss. Willow had shed a few tears and thanked him.

That was when he brought up his real purpose for talking to her. Spike told Willow that he wanted her to use her magic to blend up a cream or ointment that would remove the scars, or at least most of the scars from Dawns body. Willow stammered out that she didn't do much magic anymore, that she hadn't since she had tried to destroy the world. Spike gave her a stern look and bluntly told her that he wasn't asking her to do 'dark' magic. He wanted her to do 'white' magic, like Tara use to do, the kind that helped people instead of hurting them. Seeing the hurt in Willows eyes, Spike soothed his tone of voice with her. He told her that she had a lot of power within her, that she had the ability to do good things, but if she didn't use that power it was just being wasted and wasn't helping anyone. Willow calmed down and promised to look into it, to see if she could come up with something to help Dawn. But she told him that the ingredients for that kind of cream or ointment would probably be very expensive, because if it wasn't, some other witch or sorcerer would have already made it and been selling it to others. She started to explain that sometimes the cost of ingredients were just to high to make using them reasonable. Spike told her not to worry about costs at this time, that she should just do the research first, he would take care of the money she needed later.

Late that night, after Buffy had gotten home and he was sure she was sleeping, Spike carried his courier case into the bathroom. Once there he opened the case and took out a cell phone that had been given to him by one of the priest from the Vatican. It was one of those cell phones with a special account that allowed the user to call anywhere in the world. He didn't like to use it very often because it gave a record of who he was calling to the priests. But this time it didn't matter because he was calling Father Boulard. He'd waited until he was fairly certain that the priest would be free. Father Boulard liked to take a nap right after lunch and Spike had the phone number for his private quarters. The priest picked up after the fourth ring, sounding as if he were still half asleep. As soon as he heard Spikes voice though, he was wide awake. Spike explained where he was and why, without going into to much detail, just emphasizing that it was something he had to do. He then asked the priest for a couple of favors. First that he go to his apartment and collect his private possessions and keep them for him, that maybe someday he'd be back to get them. The second favor was more important. Spike had a suitcase in a safety deposit box in a bank in Geneva, that was filled with money. He asked the priest to go to Geneva for him and to deposit the money into a numbered account for him. He explained briefly that he needed to be able to access the money to pay for things he was going to need. Father Boulard agreed without questioning Spike of his need for so much money. Spike gave him the number to his account and the priest assured him that he would have the money in his account within three or four days. They said their goodbye's and the priest blessed his endeavors.

Knowing that the money he would need would soon be available put a smile on Spikes face. Until he opened the bathroom door and found Buffy standing in the hallway. The shock of seeing her there, at the bathroom door, threw Spike into full memory recall and every moment of 'that night' flooded through his mind. With the memory came all the guilt, shame and remorse. The sudden onslaught of these intense emotions, the pain they brought to him, knocked him backwards into the bathroom as if he had just been hit in the face.

The shock of seeing Spike fly back into the bathroom as if she had just hit him made Buffy yell out his name "Spike!". Rushing into the room to help Spike up, Buffy was shocked again when he avoided letting her touch him and scooted back across the floor to avoid her. He also refused to meet her eyes, but she could see the fear on his face. Buffy stood frozen, not knowing what to do next. That was when Dawn rushed into the room and hurriedly knelt down next to him, reaching out carefully she pulled him into her arms. Buffy watched as Dawn soothed Spike. It was almost like a complete reversal of roles from that first night that Spike came back, when he had soothed and nurtured Dawn. Buffy could hear Dawn whispering to Spike and could hear him mumbling back to her. The only words that she could make out were when Spike repeated several times the word 'sorry'. When Dawn raised her head to look at Buffy, she could see that Dawn had tears in her eyes. Realization came to Buffy that her staying in the bathroom was only making things harder for Spike, she knew that she should leave. Backing out of the bathroom into the hallway, Buffy stood there listening to Spike and Dawn talking quietly to each other. Neither one was talking loud enough that she could understand what they were saying, only that Spike was upset and Dawn was trying to calm him down.

It was about fifteen or twenty minutes before Dawn came out of the bathroom, alone. She signaled to Buffy to follow her and headed down the stairs for the kitchen. As soon as they were in the kitchen Buffy started asking questions. "Dawn, what happened up there? Spike opened the door and saw me standing there and he flew back into the bathroom like I'd just hit him or something. When I tried to help him, he wouldn't let me touch him. What did I do?" As Buffy spoke her voice had risen and become more and more emotional. By the time she finished she sounded as if she were ready to cry.

While Dawn listened to Buffy she'd gotten blood out of the refrigerator and had started heating a mug full for Spike. Dawn had tried to get Spike to go back to her room with her, but he was reluctant to come out of the bathroom while Buffy was still out in the hallway. Coming down for blood and making Buffy come with her had cleared the hallway so that Spike could go back to Dawns room. Hearing the emotions in Buffys voice and seeing that she was upset, Dawn made the decision to tell Buffy the truth, as she understood it. "Buffy, please believe me, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just that you, Spike and the bathroom, it freaked him out."

"I don't understand, Dawn." The confusion in Buffys voice was easy to hear. "Spike has been going into the bathroom since he got here, he takes a shower almost every day."

"Yeah, I know, but not when your at home" Dawn explained. Taking a breath, Dawn continued "Buffy, I know you don't like to talk about that night, I know that what Spike tried to do to you hurt you. Really, I understand that. But, Buffy …. I …. I don't think …. you were the only one that got hurt that night. I … think …. that ….. in some ways …. Spike was hurt by what happened …. as much as you were ….. maybe more. He's changed Buffy, he's not the same as he use to be. I mean, he's still Spike, he's still the same in most ways, but there's something different about him now, but I don't know how to explain it."

"Is that why he's afraid of me Dawnie? Is he afraid I'm going to do something to him, hurt him?" Tears were building in Buffys eyes as she spoke, as she said 'hurt him' they broke free and ran down her face.

"Buffy, I don't think Spikes afraid of you, he thinks your afraid of him." Dawns voice was both saddened and pained at the same time. "He told me that every time he looks at you he can feel your tension and he can see the fear in your eyes. He feels so guilty over what he tried to do to you that sometimes it seems to just overwhelm him. He said that being in the same room with you, knowing that your afraid of him, thinking that he might hurt you again, it makes him feel sick. That's why I'm always with him when your home. He thought that if we were always together, if you walked into a room and he was there, you wouldn't have to find yourself all alone with him and be afraid. It really hurts him that he's making you afraid to be in your own home."

Buffy sat down quickly on a stool, folded her arms on the breakfast bar, rested her head on her arms, and started crying. Dawn stood next to her and brushed her hand lightly over her head and hair, trying to sooth her. When Buffy lifted her head to look at Dawn, tears were running down her face and her eyes reflected the emotional pain she was feeling. "Dawnie, I'm not afraid of Spike, at least not the way he means. I don't hate him. I'm not even angry with him, not anymore, not for a long time. The only thing about Spike that I'm afraid of is that he hates me." Buffy lowered her head and cried even harder than before.

Dawn started trying to sooth Buffy again, as she asked "Why would you think Spike hates you Buffy?"

"You don't understand, Dawnie" Buffy said as she tried to control her crying. "You don't know what I did to him, how much I hurt him." Buffy wiped at the tears in her eyes, trying to see Dawn more clearly. "I couldn't tell you the truth, Dawnie. You were so angry at me after he left. I couldn't stand to have you hate me even more."

Dawn sat down on the stool next to Buffy, put her hand on one of Buffys arms for contact, then told her "I always knew the truth, Buffy. From the minute that Xander told me what happened, I knew."

Buffy didn't try to deny what Dawn said she knew, she just asked "How?"

"From Spike." Seeing the surprise and confusion on Buffy face, Dawn continued. "From his hands, Buffy"  
Still confused, and feeling Dawn was being cryptic, Buffy asked again "How, Dawn? How did you know from his hands? Explain, please."

Looking at Buffy, Dawn drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. A look of determination settled on her face as she started speaking. "Buffy, I was young back then, but I wasn't stupid. I knew that Spike loved you, even though you and everyone else kept saying he couldn't really love anyone, because he was a vampire and soulless. But I knew that wasn't true, because I knew that he loved me. I also knew that he would never hurt you, not on purpose, not deliberately, not unless you hurt him first"  
Dawn let out a sigh as she got up from her seat and walked away from Buffy to look out the backdoor window. After a few moments she came back and sat down again. "There were a bunch of things, little things I guess. I already knew that Spike loved you, I figured that much out after …. when you were gone. Spike grieved for you as much as I did Buffy. No one could grieve that much for someone they didn't love. After you came back I would watch Spike watching you, he'd follow you all over the room with his eyes. But there was something about the way he acted, as if he were hopeful that someday you would love him back. But then I saw the changes. He would show up at the Magic Box, just a minute or two after you and he would have a busted lip, or he'd just been punched in the face and it was starting to swell. You always seemed to be trying to ignore him, or you acted like you were angry with him, or you would say mean things to him, and he would just take it. But he would look at you with so much love, and at the same time his eyes seemed so full of pain. But I finally figured it out at your birthday party when Spike showed up"  
Getting up from her seat again, Dawn walked around the breakfast bar until she was on the opposite side of it from Buffy. "Spikes a fighter, Buffy. He doesn't usually run from a fight. If something or someone comes after Spike, he'll fight them. Even if some human came after him and was pounding on him, Spike would try to fight back, even if his chip zapped him for doing it. There's only one person that could beat the crap out of Spike, that he wouldn't fight back against, and that's you. When Spike came to your party he looked like someone had nearly beaten him to death." When Dawn said this, she saw Buffy wince and look away guiltily. "When I got the chance I looked at Spikes hands, there wasn't a mark on them. If Spike had been fighting with a demon his hands should have been all torn up, because with Spike looking as bad as he did, he would have had to fight for his life to win. Since Spike didn't have any marks on his hands, I knew that it had to be you that beat him up, because he would have fought back against anyone else. That's what I figured out Buffy, that you were hurting Spike because he loved you, and he was letting you hurt him because he wouldn't defend himself against you, because he loved you."

Dawn moved around the breakfast bar again and went over to the microwave where she started warming up the blood for Spike again. Not looking at Buffy, keeping her back to her, Dawn started talking again. "What Spike did to you Buffy, what he tried to do to you, that was wrong. Nobody knows that better than me." Taking the warmed blood out of the microwave, Dawn carried it over to the doorway. Stopping there she turned to look back at Buffy. "Ask me about the story of the dog sometime. It's why I couldn't blame Spike for what he tried to do to you. It's why I was angry at you, why I blamed you for Spike leaving." Dawn turned and left the room, taking the warmed blood up to Spike.

Buffy sat on the stool at the breakfast bar, thinking. She thought about Spike, what Dawn had said about him, that he was different now. Giles had said something similar, that Spike had changed in ways that were hard to believe. The hours ticked away, the sun came up, Buffy continued to sit there and think. She wasn't sure that she found any answers, she wasn't even sure she knew the right questions. When it was time, she went up to her room and dressed for work. She took a change of cloths with her so she wouldn't have to come home to change before going on patrol. Buffy told herself that she owed Spike the peace of mind of not having her around the house. She had asked him to come back to help heal Dawn, he was doing that, she didn't have the right to ask him to heal her too.

It wasn't as if everything just turned around for Dawn and everything got better. There were bad days and nights for her, especially when the dreams would come, when she would wake up crying. But the screaming had stopped, because every night she slept in Spikes arms and she knew down deep, inside, that she was safe. They'd both had a couple of really bad days, and nights, after Dawns show and tell, and Spike's bathroom drama. But because they had each other they were able to get each other through the bad parts. It also helped that piece by piece he'd been bringing some of Dawns things back up from the basement to her room. He didn't bother with the little girlie things, like dolls and such, but her books and CD's showed up a few at a time. He'd also got her to start sleeping in her bed again, mainly by complaining that he was to old to be sleeping on a hard floor. He'd told Dawn that after living like a real person for the past couple of years he'd gotten soft and liked his comforts. Buffy had even gone out and bought him a pair of black sweat pants to wear to bed, so he wouldn't have to wear his jeans. The thought had crossed his mind more than once how strange it was that no one even blinked at the idea of him sleeping in the same bed as Dawn.

By the middle of the fourth week they were even taking short walks together while Spike smoked his cigarettes. At first it had just been slow walks around the house, then one night they'd walked as far as the street light on the corner. After a couple of nights of that, Spike had led the way down the sidewalk to the street light on the next corner, then back again. They'd been doing that for a couple of nights now and Dawn was acting fairly comfortable with it. Tonight, instead of going the familiar way, Spike led Dawn down the street in the opposite direction for three blocks to the small park and playground. Spike knew that Dawn had memories of the playground as a safe place. He knew the memories had been implanted in her mind by the monks that had created her, but still they were there and they were happy memories. Once there he gave her a big grin and raced her to the swings.

They'd been at the playground for about a half hour, Spike was telling Dawn a story about one of his demon hunts in Romania, when a very noisy dirt bike raced past the playground. When the rider of the bike hit his brakes hard to come to a stop and turned the bike around in the middle of the street, Spike stopped talking. The rider twisted the throttle hard and the front of the bike raised up off the ground. He then rode the bike on it's rear wheel to the edge of the street and let the front tire drop to the ground. Spike had gotten up from his seat on one of the swings and had moved out in front of Dawn. Dawn had gotten out of her own seat and had moved in behind Spike, as if his body was a shield. The rider of the bike sat for a few moments looking at Spike, and Dawn behind him, then shut off the motor bike and set the kickstand. Dismounting from the bike he took a couple of steps toward Spike, then stopping, started shifting from one foot to the other as if he were nervous or hesitant about approaching closer.

The breeze in the air was coming from the wrong direction so Spike couldn't pick up the scent of the rider. He was wearing a helmet with a mirror like face shield and had on a puffy down filled jacket that masked his body size a bit. But as the rider stood there in front of him there was something familiar about him. When the rider reached both hands up to his helmet and bending his head forward pulled the helmet off, Spike let out a sigh of relief when he recognized who it was in front of him, it was the boy, Connor.

If it hadn't been for the fright that this meeting had caused Dawn, Spike could hear her heart beating rapidly, he might have reacted differently, but because she was frightened he spoke harshly. "What the bloody fucking hell do you think your doing here 'Boy'? Don't you know you could get yourself killed pulling a stunt like that, scaring the Niblet?" Spike turned away from Connor and quickly went to Dawn to calm her and reassure her that there wasn't any danger. Speaking to Dawn, but talking loud enough for Connor to hear, Spike pulled her into his arms and told her that everything was alright, that it was just Angels 'sorry assed whelp' and he wasn't anyone to be worried about.

Connor felt a bit stung by Spikes words, but at the same time he felt embarrassed. He didn't know Dawn, hadn't really noticed her until Spike had stepped in front of her protectively, he'd just seen Spike as he was riding past and had stopped, then rushed over. He could see that Dawn was shaken and that she was resting her head against Spikes shoulder as he held her in his arms. Taking a couple of steps closer and out to one side, Connor waited a few moments before speaking. "Look Spike, I'm sorry, but I didn't even see her till she got up behind you. I was just coming to see you, like you said I could." Connors voice was a little bit whiny, a little bit defensive, but mostly he sounded uncertain of himself. "I was going by when I saw you, so I just hit the brakes."

Spike had lost his anger already, but he was still upset, mostly about Dawn being frightened. Turning his head to look at Connor, when he spoke his voice still sounded a little rough, "Yeah, is that right Boy, then what was with the whole bloody 'rearing stallion' bullshit on the bike?"

Connors face blushed a dark red that was noticeable even in the poor lighting of the playground at night. Ducking his head, he turned it to the side for a moment to break eye contact. When he looked back at Spike to tell him what had happened he could see Dawns face for the first time and he blushed again. When he spoke again he sounded like a little boy trying to explain how it wasn't his fault that the window got broken, 'cause it was an accident.' "Ah, look Spike, ah, … I didn't mean for that to happen. It was sort of an accident. Ah, … see the throttle kind of sticks, sometimes. I can turn it and nothing happens, then all at once I get full power. It doesn't hurt anything on the road, but at a stop, it kind of got away from me. Honest, it was an accident."

Dawn had noticed Connors blushing and had heard the uncertainty in his voice. For some reason that probably made no sense at all, it made her feel better. Looking at him and seeing that he was blushing again, she gave him a small smile to show she accepted his apology.

Spike noticed Dawn calming down and seeing her attempted smile he hoped that this little mess wasn't going to turn into a big mess and undo all the progress that he'd made on getting Dawn to come out of the house. He just needed to turn this whole thing into something more familiar and less threatening. Speaking to break the silence that was starting to grow uncomfortable, Spike gave Dawn a little hug and said "I suppose you and the boy already know each other, him being Angels get an all?"

A light blush came to Dawns face as she looked down, but she answered anyway. "No, we don't know each other." Raising her head and seeing a slightly puzzled look in Spikes eyes, she went on. "I mean I know who he is, we've just never met before, that's all."

Connor spoke up as soon as Dawn finished speaking. "Yeah, this is my first time out of L.A.. I've never been to Sunnydale before, or … well … much of anywhere else either." Reaching into his coat pocket Connor pulled out a folded piece of paper and with one hand opened it up, then held it out toward Spike. "I got the address at the library and looked it up on 'Map Quest' and printed out a map."

Spike took a quick look at the map, then looking up at Connor he said with a slight smirk in his voice. "You were sort of coming from the wrong direction, weren't you Boy?"

Connor blushed with embarrassment, then said "Yeah, I got lost for a little while. Made a wrong turn or something."

A smirky grin spread over Spikes lips that Dawn recognized and before he could say anything more to embarrass Connor she slapped Spike lightly on the arm drawing his attention to her. "Oh come on, you going to tell me you've never been lost before? What about that time you told me about where you wandered around in those catacombs for three days trying to find your way out?"

Spike gave Dawn a mock look of being offended, then grinned at her. "I'll have you know that I wasn't lost a bit. I just didn't know where I was going, that's all. There's a difference you know?"

"Oh, and what would that difference be, oh great and wonderful explorer?" Dawn asked with a tone of mocking laughter in her voice.

Spike picked up on her tone of voice and answered in the same way. "You have to know where you want to be going before you can get lost. When I was down it those catacombs, I'll have you know that I didn't have the slightest idea of where I was or where I was going, so I wasn't lost."

Dawn glanced over at Connor and saw the slightly puzzled look on his face as he tried to work out what Spike had just said and what it meant. Seeing it she started laughing, when she looked back over at Spike and saw his mock offended look again, she started laughing harder. Spike gave her a big smile and pulling into his arms he gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Spike then announced that it was time that they headed home and taking Dawns left hand in his right hand he started leading her out of the park. Connor stood there for several moments not really knowing what to do, if he was invited to go with them. When Spike looked back at him and with a jerk of his head signaled to Connor to come with them he couldn't help but sigh in relief. Hurrying over to his motor bike he started to get on it, then hesitated. Instead he kicked up the stand and started walking the bike along the edge of the curb.  
As they walked Spike glanced over at him and down at his bike several times. They were still a block away from the house when Spike asked him, "What in bloody hell kind of bike is that thing?"

"You like it? I made it myself!" Connor said with a note of pride in his voice. "The frame and sprocket are Kawasaki, the front fork is off a Suzuki and the engine is off a Yamaha. It took me months to put it all together and get it to work right. It'll go sixty-five to seventy miles an hour on the highway."

Spike looked to Connor with disbelief. "Are you telling me you rode this bloody death trap down here at those speeds tonight? Boy, your as crazy as Dru ever was!"

Dawn was looking over and saw Connor stiffen up and could see the hurt look on his face. She gave Spikes hand a hard squeeze and when he looked over at her she gave him a frown of disapproval. Spike was immediately aware that he had put his foot in his mouth and tried to smooth things out. "Look Boy, I'm not saying your not some kind of bloody genius or something. You'd bloody well have to be to get the damned thing to run. But didn't anyone ever tell you about balance and airflow dynamics. This thing must have jumped all over the place out on the highway. Your lucky you made it this far without going off the road."

An embarrassed look came to Connors face as he ducked his head to break eye contact. "I didn't actually ride it that fast, not all the way. I got it up to almost seventy once, but it kept drifting to the side of the road. Most of the way I was only going about fifty to fifty-five."

Spike nodded his head at Connor in understanding. "Even at those speeds you were riding the edge of stability for that thing. Plus you've got the wrong kind of tires on it to begin with, those are off road tires. It must have been like riding a jack hammer all the way down here. Boy, your either one hell of a rider or you just used up all your luck in one night."

Dawn spoke up before Spike could say anymore, or before Connor could respond. "Connor, I'm sure Spike wasn't trying to put down you are your bike, but you should listen to what he says. Spikes been riding motorcycles for over a hundred years and there isn't much about them he doesn't know."

Connor looked at Spike with both respect and interest, "Really?"

Spike made a frown as he remembered how he got all the motorcycles he'd ever ridden. He'd either stolen them or killed their owners and then taken them, but he told Connor anyway "Yeah, stole my first one back in 1895. Wasn't much more than a bicycle with a motor, probably couldn't go faster than five or six miles an hour. Got a better one in Germany during the war in 1915, on an open road it would get up to forty, forty-five. I've probably ridden just about every motorcycle ever made at some time or another."

Connor apparently didn't think of how Spike got all these different motorcycles over the years. Instead he was impressed and it showed on his face. The first questions out of his mouth were almost predictable. "Which one did you like best? Do you have a bike now? What kind?"

They had just gotten to the house and Connor left the bike in the driveway. They all entered the house together. Dawn went into the kitchen and warmed up a mug of blood for Spike while she got cold sodas out of the refrigerator for her and Connor. When the blood was warmed she carried everything into the living room. Connor took a soda and sat in a chair. Spike sat down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. Dawn sat down next to him and snuggled into his side. For the next hour Spike and Connor talked about top speeds and gear ratios, street bikes versus off road bikes versus high speed racing bikes, one bike versus another bike and which one was the better. Dawn didn't know what they were talking about eighty percent of the time, but she knew Spike was enjoying himself talking about guy things for a change.

When Buffy approached her house after her patrol she noticed the motor bike in her driveway right away. The first questions in her mind were, where did it come from and who did it belong too? Noticing that the lights were on in the living room she figured that she would find out soon enough, she just hoped it wasn't trouble. Opening the front door she entered the house and heard Spikes voice and someone else's. Stepping into the doorway leading into the living room she saw Spike sprawled on the couch with Dawn tucked up under his arm, her head resting on his chest. She had seen them like this a number of times over the past weeks and every time she did she was thankful to Spike for coming back to Sunnydale for Dawn. But every time she saw them like this a small stab of jealousy pricked her heart, which she immediately buried under shame and remorse.  
But tonight, seeing who the other person in the living room was stuck her numb and speechless. Never in a hundred years had she ever expected to see Angels son Connor in her house. As she stood there with her mouth open, not knowing what to say, Connor rose to his feet and looking at her tried to smile, then blushed.

Dawn had been comfortable just listening to Spike and Connor talk. She wasn't really interested in what they were saying so hadn't been paying attention. She heard Buffy come in through the front door and felt Spike stiffen up a bit. When Buffy stepped into the living room and froze, she looked over at Connor and saw that he didn't know what to say either. Deciding that someone had to do or say something before the awkward silence got any worst, she spoke up for everyone. "Buffy, you remember Connor don't you? He came down to see Spike tonight. If it's okay with you, I thought that maybe he could sleep down stairs in the basement, in Spikes bed, since he's not using it anyway?"

Buffy was stunned for several moments, not only by the idea of Connor coming to see Spike, but by Dawn asking that a man, any man besides Spike, could stay in the house over night.

Connor thinking that Buffy didn't want him to stay, because she hadn't said anything, spoke up. "No, that's okay, I hadn't really planned to stay the night. I thought that once you went to bed, Spike and I could talk and then I'd go on back to L.A.."

Spike straightened up on the couch and taking his feet off the coffee table put them on the floor. Clearing his throat, he spoke to Connor, not looking directly at Buffy. "That's not the way it's going to work, Boy. First off, I've been sleeping human hours the past few weeks, so I'll be going to bed soon myself. Second reason, you can't go back to L.A. tonight. You may not have noticed it but that back tire of yours is showing thread in a few places. You won't get halfway back before it blows out on you and if your going fast it could flip that pieced together monstrosity right off the road. Your going to have to get some new tires put on that thing first thing before you can go anywhere. If Buffy doesn't want you to stay here tonight, I'll put you up in a motel for the night. Angel an me might not be on the best of terms, but I figure I owe him enough to put you up somewhere safe for the night and get you some new tires in the morning."

Before Connor could protest or decline, Buffy came out of her daze and spoke up, a little to loudly at first. "No!" Then more calmly and quieter, "No, Connor can stay here tonight. Like Dawn said the bed is there and no one is using it." Then looking at Connor she gave him a small smile before continuing. "I'm sorry Connor, for not asking you to stay immediately. I guess I'm just a little tired and not thinking to fast. You should do what Spike says, I'm sure he knows what's safest. He use to have a motorcycle, when he lived here before. In the morning I can take you someplace to get new tires. Or do you have to take the bike there to have them put on for you?"

For almost the first time since he had stepped into the house weeks ago, Spike looked at Buffy and spoke to her directly. "No, if you could take him to pick up the tires, I can help him change them. We can use the garage, if that's okay with you, shouldn't take more than an hour to change both of them." When Spike said 'both of them' he saw that Connor was going to protest. "Look, Boy, you need to put street tires on that beast if your going to ride it on the highway. Those knobby tires are good for the off road, but they aren't worth a bloody damned for the streets. You put a proper set of tires on that thing it will be a lot easier to keep it on the road. We can talk about what you came down here for tomorrow."

Buffy had no idea what Spike was taking about with the tires or about talking to Connor, but she was so pleased that he had looked at her when he talked to her that all she could do is smile at Spike and nod her head in agreement. Dawn seeing the smile on Buffys face started smiling too. Connor seeing the both of them smiling, and really wanting to talk to Spike, gave both of them a bashful grin and nodded his head. Buffy taking that as an agreement smiled even bigger. "Okay, Connor, do you want me to show you where your going to sleep, or are you guys going to stay up longer?" Asking this, Buffy looked at Dawn and Spike .  
Spike looked at Dawn, then looking at Buffy he spoke to her again. "I think the Bit and I are going to go on to bed. She won't admit it, but she was nearly dozing off earlier, must have been all the exciting conversation going on."

Dawn rolled her eyes at Spike, but still smiled at him. "Yeah, like I know what torque or gear ratio or differential is suppose to mean." Taking Spikes hand in hers she started pulling him toward the stairs. When they got to the stairs, Buffy said in a very happy tone of voice "Good Night guys". Both Dawn and Spike said "Good Night" to her and to Connor and went up the stairs.

Buffy still smiling led Connor to the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement, showing him the bed and telling him the sheets were still fresh because Spike had never slept in the bed. She then told him "Good Night" and went upstairs to her own bed to get some sleep. It took Buffy over an hour to fall to sleep though, she kept running the words that Spike had said to her and the way he had actually looked at her through her mind. She knew she was making a bigger thing of it than it really was, but she couldn't help thinking that sometimes big things start off small.

In the morning as soon as Buffy woke up she got out of bed and got dressed. Usually she let herself wake up slowly and took her time getting up. But this morning Spike needed her, alright Connor needed her to take him to get the new tires. But she knew that she was really doing it for Spike. Hurrying downstairs she discovered that she was the first one up. Going to the basement door she opened it and went halfway down the stairs to see if Connor was still sleeping. When she could see the bed she saw that Connor was up and dressed and sitting on the bed reading a book he'd found somewhere. Once they were back in the kitchen she suggested that she move the car out of the garage and Connor move the bike inside of it. By the time they had that accomplished and came back into the house, Spike and Dawn were up and in the kitchen.

Dawn still looked sleepy, but she was dressed. Spike was dressed too, in a pair of black jeans and a tight black t-shirt that showed off his chest and abs. Seeing Spike dressed like that, without an over shirt or his coat on, brought back old memories to Buffy. Memories of other times she had seen him dressed like that, memories of him without the t-shirt, or the jeans. Memories that made her blush and look away.

Spike noticed Buffy blushing and looking away from him, but didn't no why. The thought crossed his mind that he was the cause of it somehow and that made him feel bad, because he didn't know what he had done. Dawn also noticed the blush, but she had seen the look in Buffys eyes when she first looked at Spike, a smirky grin spread over her lips. When she caught Buffys eye the grin turned into a wicked little smile.

Buffy blushed again and then started rushing around the kitchen like a dervish. She had a mug of blood into the microwave in seconds and was mixing up a bowl of pancake batter before it was warmed. Plates and forks and syrup and butter and glasses of milk and orange juice were in front of everyone before they could even think of saying they weren't hungry. Dawn got the first plate full, then Connor, then Spike. The skillet she used was big enough for four big pancakes, when she made a plate up for herself she only put three on her plate and casually put the fourth pancake on Dawns plate. She had also warmed up a second mug of blood for Spike and as she sat down to eat she set it in front of him.

With breakfast finished and the dishes in the sink to soak, Buffy grabbed her car keys and they all hurried out to the garage. The sun was in the east, being morning and all, so direct light from it could only come in through one window and not through the open garage door at all. Buffy, with the help of Connor, nailed up a big piece of cardboard over the window and blocked out the sunlight. Spike handed Buffy a folded piece of paper and three fifty dollar bills. The piece of paper had the names of several different types of tires and wheel size. Spike also told her they would need a can of sealer and a hand pump for the tires, but there should be enough money to cover everything.

Buffy didn't even think of refusing to take the money from Spike. First because she knew that she didn't have the extra money to buy the tires for Connor. The second reason, and the more important one was that she wasn't about to insult Spike, not again. The first week that Spike had been in the house he tried to give Buffy some money to pay for his blood and cigarettes. Buffy had hesitated about taking the money and Spike had gotten upset and left the room. Dawn had snapped at Buffy telling her she had hurt Spikes feelings, the money wasn't stolen, Spike had earned the money. Buffy had assured Dawn that she hadn't even thought for a minute that the money was stolen. She explained that because she'd asked Spike to come back to Sunnydale, she felt like she should be paying for whatever he needed. An agreement was made after that, Spike would pay for his cigarettes and Buffy would pay for his blood. If he ordered anything extra, like pizza or chicken wings or Chinese takeout for him and Dawn, he would pay for it himself.

Buffy and Connor were gone about forty-five minutes, by the time they got back Spike had taken both wheels off the bike and had stripped off the old tires. In less than an hour Spike and Connor had mounted the new tires, sealed them and inflated them. Buffy and Dawn had just stood back and watched, neither one knowing how to be of help. When the bike was ready Connor rolled it out to the street and started it up. The bike was loud and by Dawns estimation it sounded like it was going to explode, but neither Spike or Connor seemed concerned. Connor raced the engine a few times then popped the clutch, the bike rose up on it's rear wheel and burning rubber all the way, he rode it down to the corner before he let the front wheel come down. Turning the bike again, Connor popped the clutch again and rode the bike back to the house on the rear wheel again. Spikes only comment was that Connor had just burned off a thousand miles of rubber showing off. But Dawn had seen his eyes as he watched Connor on the bike and she knew that he was wishing that it was him on the bike.

Buffy had moved her moms SUV back into the garage, she never thought of it as hers, it was always her moms, and went into the house to take a shower and get dressed for work. Once she left the house, Spike and Dawn sat down on the couch and Connor took the chair he'd been sitting in the night before. Spike asked Connor if he minded Dawn sitting in on their conversation? Connor said he didn't mind, unless there was something Spike didn't want Dawn to know or would be uncomfortable for her to learn. Spike assured Connor that he wasn't going to tell him anything that Dawn couldn't hear, but some of it might make Connor a little uncomfortable before he was done. Connor said he didn't care if he became uncomfortable, he was tired of being a 'mushroom'. Spike had looked to Connor for an explanation, but it was Dawn who said 'kept in the dark' and Connor had nodded his head in agreement.

Spike explained to Connor that most of what he knew about Darla's history he'd learned from Angelus while he was still a young vampire. Darla had taken Dru and had gone off to visit the Master, leaving Spike and Angelus alone together for several months. With Darla gone, Angelus had talked about her a great deal. Darla's father had been a rich man who got a servant pregnant. He accused the woman of being a thief and she was sold into 'bond slavery' in the New World where her new owner used her as a prostitute in a Virginia Colony brothel. When her mother died, Darla was made to be a prostitute at a very early age. Darla was in her mid twenties and dieing of syphilis in 1609 when the Master offered her the chance to live forever and for revenge against her father. Darla let the Master turn her, due mainly to the promise of revenge. After being turned Darla went back to England and killed her father, his wife, his children, their spouses and all their children. She hunted down every member of her fathers family and killed them all, ending his family line.

Darla stayed with the Master as his favorite Child for a hundred years, then started going off on her own. In 1753, while in Ireland she saw a young man, Liam O'Conner, and wanted him for more than a meal. She turned him and called him Angelus because she thought he was as beautiful as any angel could ever be. For over a hundred years they roamed the continents of the world killing and loving each other. In 1860 Angelus became enamored with a young girl, Drusilla, who had second sight, he drove her insane and turned her, making her his Child. In 1880 Drusilla found William and turned him, making him her Child. For the next eighteen years they were a 'family', a vampire family.  
In 1898 gypsies cursed Angelus with a soul and Darla drove him away. In 1900 Angelus tried to rejoin his family in China, but his soul wouldn't let him kill the innocent and Darla drove him away again. In 1997 Darla was in Sunnydale with the Master when Angel arrived. Darla tried to kill the Slayer and Angel killed her instead. In 2000 the lawyers at Wolfram & Hart performed a spell and brought Darla back to life, real life. They were going to try to use her to make Angel loose his soul. When Angel found out that Darla was actually alive, but dieing of the same disease that had been killing her when the Master turned her, he tried to save her life, nearly loosing his own, but refused to turn her. Wolfram & Hart got Drusilla to turn her and she became a vampire again. Somehow, someway, after becoming a vampire again, Angel and Darla made love, then Angel told Darla to leave L.A. or he would kill her the next time he saw her. Darla came back to L.A. pregnant with Angels child. There was a prophesy about an 'unborn child' of two vampires. When Darla couldn't give birth, she took her own life, out of love for the child, and Connor was born, or 'unborn' as the case may be.

Spike finished telling his story and waited for Connor to make a comment or to ask questions. Connor sat for a long time without saying anything, he just stared down at his hands in his lap. When he finally lifted his head his eyes were red with unshed tears. In a voice that was hoarse with repressed emotions, Connor asked "How do you know she loved me? I was taught my whole life that vampires can't love. I've excepted that Angel can love, but only because he has a soul. Darla didn't have a soul so how do you know she loved me?"

Before Spike could speak, Dawn spoke first. "Spike can love, Connor. Spike can love more than anyone else in the world. For over a hundred years he loved Drusilla and he only left her when she sent him away. He loved Buffy, he loved her so much he would have died for her. And he loves me. I know it's true Connor. Spike came back to Sunnydale for me, and everyday he's here it hurts him, but he stays because he loves me." The sincerity in Dawns tone of voice made it evident to Connor that Dawn totally believed what she was telling him. There was also the evidence of their behavior together. Connor wasn't completely certain of Dawn and Spikes relationship with each other, but he couldn't find it within himself to deny that the two of them loved each other.

When Spike looked at Dawn he had a gentile smile on his lips. Every time that Dawn pronounced her love for him and her acceptance of his love for her it made his soul fill with joy. Looking over at Connor, Spike could read on his face that he accepted what Dawn had just said about Spike, but there was still the doubt about Darla loving him. Spike could also read on Connors face and by his body language that this doubt was something that burned a hole in his heart. Spike knew what the doubt of someone loving you could do to your heart. It brought a pain to the heart, and the soul, that made you wonder if you were unlovable. It made you think that there must be something terribly wrong about you that no one else could love you or care about you the way you loved and cared about them. Accepting Dawns love and her feelings for him had been a soothing balm to both Spikes heart and soul, but he still knew those feeling well, to well.

"Look Boy, …… Connor, what I told you about Darla, most of it I got from your da, from Angel. That last part I got from Fred just a few weeks ago, the part about her coming back pregnant and killing herself so you could be born. She's the one who told me that Darla loved you, that she loved you enough to sacrifice her own life so that you could live. But I believe her, Boy, I don't think she would have lied to me." Studying Connor, Spike could see the doubt was still there.

"Boy, I want you to think about a few things. I told you what kind of life Darla had, bond slave and being a whore. I'm more than a little sure that when her owner started putting her into the beds of men she probably wasn't more than a child herself. There probably wasn't a single man in her life that ever treated her with love or respect, so it would be no wonder if she never loved or respected any man. When the Master turned her, he was the first person to treat her with respect, he even made her his favorite Child. I won't tell you that she loved him, but she had feelings for him. When she met Angel she developed feelings for him, enough so, that when she had to make a choice of staying with the Master or going off with Angel, she picked Angel. Again, I don't know if it was love or not. I do know that her feelings for Angel were strong. But even so, there were times when she abandoned him to possible death while she escaped to save herself. So I want you to think about this. In the four hundred and more years of her existence, I only know of one time when Darla put someone else ahead of her own self, of her own existence, and that one time was you. When the time came to make a choice over her own life, or yours, she chose to take her own life so that you would live. I don't know if you would call that love or not, Boy, but to my way of thinking there isn't any greater way of showing your love for someone else than by putting their life ahead of your own. Darla made a choice, her life or yours, and she chose you to live. I'm thinking that probably means that she loved you more than anything else she'd ever loved in her entire life."

Dawn had been sitting next to Spike, up close, but when he got to the part about someone giving up their own life to save the life of someone else and how there was no greater love a person could have, tears came to her eyes. Thoughts of Buffy giving up her own life, jumping from the tower so that Dawn would live, flooded into her mind. Thoughts of Spike letting Glory torture him nearly to death, but refusing to reveal that Dawn was the 'Key' that Glory was looking for came next. Dawn slipped her arm through Spikes and hugged herself against him tightly as she let her head come to rest against his shoulder. Both of them sat there quietly, probably with the same thoughts and memories in both their minds.

Connor had been looking down at his hands in his lap again, when he raised his head this time to look at Spike, the tears had broken free from his eyes and were running down his face. With his voice choked with emotions, emotions that he normally tried to suppress, Connor said "Thank you. No one's ever told me about the other stuff, what you told me. They'd just say she killed herself so I'd be born and that she must have loved me. But, I don't know, she didn't have a soul, so I wasn't really sure of it. I've never loved anyone, not like that. But if I did love someone, really loved them, I think I might be willing to die for them. If it would keep them safe, let them live, I think I could die for them."

Listening to Connor speak, his tone of voice and the words he used, Spike hoped he hadn't just set up some kind of martyr complex in the boy. Speaking calmly but forcefully, Spike said "Listen to me Boy, sometimes there are situations where you know that there aren't any choices, where you have to be willing to sacrifice your own life so that someone else will live. But a better idea, if it's possible, is to find a way to save the other person and both of you live. Because you never know, someday you might be needed to save them again, and if your already dead you won't be there to do it."

Connor reached up and wiped the remnants of his tears from his face and gave Spike a crooked kind of grin. "Yeah, I can see that. Wouldn't want to just let yourself be killed if there was a better way to do things. It'd be kind of stupid to let yourself be killed for no reason, not if there were other choices." Looking Spike in the eyes, Connor said "I understand what your saying, and thanks, again."

For the rest of the afternoon Connor asked questions and Spike tried to answer them. Spike didn't try to pretend that Darla wasn't a vampire, or that she wasn't a cold blooded killer, he gave Connor truthful answers. But mostly he tried to keep his answers away from the hunting and killing and focused more on situations less lethal .  
When Connor asked him what Darla looked like, Spike closed his eyes and brought a picture of her up in his mind and described her as best he could. Spike then asked, if he really wanted to know what Darla looked like, why didn't he have Angel draw him a picture. Connor hesitated, then told Spike that Angel always seemed to be hurt by Connor asking him any questions about Darla, as if thinking about her made him feel bad, so he stopped asking.

In a loud and angry voice, Spike said "Bollocks!" Dawn sat up straight to look at him and Connor was staring at him too. Spike made an actual growl deep in his throat before he spoke again. When he did you could hear the anger he was feeling. "That bloody arsed wanker is manipulating you, Boy. The pillock made up his mind that you didn't need to know about Darla, so he's kept everything a secret from you." Seeing the hurt come into Connors eyes, Spike quickly continued, his voice much calmer and less angry. "Listen, Boy, I'm sure your da loves you. Knowing him that's probably why he didn't tell you. When Angel gets an idea in his head the only way to get it out is with a rock. Somewhere along the line Angel decided that telling you about Darla would be bad for you, and bad for him. More probably bad for him. You see, Darla and Angel were together for almost a hundred and fifty years, killing people all around the world. The only way he could tell you about Darla was to tell you about himself too. Angel loves you and he wants you to love him, but he probably figured that if he told you all about his past you wouldn't be able to love him. Angel doesn't like to talk about the past, he doesn't like to admit what he was like before he got his soul. Talking to you about Darla, he wouldn't be able to pretend that none of it ever happened."

Connor looked at Spike with his eyes opened in shock. "Is that really why he won't tell me anything? That doesn't make any sense. My fath….., the man who raised me, Holtz, he told me all about Angelus and Darla, about all the thousands and thousands of people they slaughtered over the centuries. That was why I tried to kill Angel, that was why I had so much trouble believing that Darla could have loved me. I was raised to believe that both of them were monsters and that my whole purpose in life was to kill Angelus. Now your saying my dad won't tell me about my mother because he doesn't want me to know the truth about him." The tone of incredulity in his voice had brought the volume to a shout as he clenched his hands into fists.

Speaking loudly himself, Spike shouted back "No, that's not what I'm telling you. I'm telling you that your fathers past torments his soul. Talking about Darla just makes the torment that much harder."

Connor had risen up in his chair and was in a crouch, he looked as if he were ready to attack Spike at any moment. Shouting, he said "If my fathers soul torments him so much he can't even talk about Darla, then how come your soul doesn't do the same thing?"

"Because my soul isn't a curse, you pillock!" Spike shouted back as he also rose to his feet.

It was hearing Dawn gasp in surprise that brought Spike back to himself and drained all the anger out of him. Turning toward her he could read the surprise, and hurt, on her face.

"Were you even going to tell me?" Dawn whispered, her voice quavering.

"Niblet, the soul was never important between us." Spikes voice had dropped, taking on an almost pleading quality. "You never cared about the soul before, I didn't want you to think that it had anything to do with me coming back. I came back for you, Bit. You needed me, and I needed to come back to you. The soul didn't get a vote." As Spike was speaking to Dawn he had knelt down on the floor in front of her. He started to reach out to touch her, but stopped, afraid she wouldn't let him.

Dawn heard Spikes words and the pleading sound in his voice. She even heard him admit that he now had a soul. But it was his hesitation that broke through her shock, seeing him become afraid to touch her. Dawns eyes filled with tears as she threw herself at Spike and wrapped her arms around him. Spike franticly wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against his chest. Spike was talking, in a voice so low it was nearly a whisper, that he was sorry for not telling her, he just didn't want it to make a difference between them. Dawn was talking in an equally low voice, telling Spike that she didn't care about the soul, that she'd never cared about the soul. She told him how much she loved him and that nothing would ever make that change. Spike was telling her how much he loved her too. Both of them were crying and holding onto each other tightly.

As angry as Connor was feeling, hearing Dawn gasp in surprise and seeing the hurt look on her face drained the anger right out of him. It only took moments for him to understand that Spike hadn't told her about his soul, that he hadn't wanted it to make a difference between them. Hearing them cry and tell each other how much they loved each other felt like eavesdropping to Connor as he sat back down in his chair and tried not to listen, to look away, to not be noticed.

When the room became quiet again, Connor looked over at the couch and saw that Spike was sitting on it again. Dawn was in his arms sitting across his lap, her arms were wrapped around his neck and shoulders with her head resting on his shoulder. Her face was turned toward his so that she could see him. There were tear streaks on her face, but she had stopped crying. Spike had also stopped crying, but Connor could see that he was still shaken by what had just happened.

Spike was holding Dawn in such a way that he had to look at Connor over one of Dawn shoulders. Clearing his throat first, he said "I'm sorry for getting angry Connor. It just seems every time I talk about Angel I end up getting that way." When Connor nodded his head in acceptance, Spike asked "I'd appreciate it if you kept what was said to yourself. But would you tell me how you knew I had a soul in the first place?"

"Sure" Connor said, his voice back to normal. "Fred told me, after your visit."

A puzzled look came to Spikes eyes and it was in his voice too. "Fred told you? How did she know, I didn't tell her about it."

"No you didn't, but Fred's really smart" Connor said, with real admiration in his voice. "She's probably the smartest person I've ever met. She told me that she saw you wearing a cross around your neck. She said that she knew immediately that there was something special about you, because a vampire shouldn't be able to wear a cross, even one with a soul. She still hasn't figured out how you can wear a cross, but she was certain that you'd have to have a soul to do it."

Hearing Connor say that Spike wore a cross around his neck had Dawn rubbing her finger tips over Spikes chest until she located it under his t-shirt. She then just stuck her hand down his shirt until she found it and pulled it out into sight. It wasn't a big cross and it was thin, but it was silver on a silver chain. As she studied it she noticed that something was etched on it, words across the cross bar, but she couldn't read what it said.

Spike was still talking to Connor "Did she tell everyone what she saw, what she thought it meant?"

"No, I don't think she told anyone else. She said that she thought that maybe Lorne might know, but he hasn't said anything about it to her" Connor replied. "I think she only told me because she figured out that sooner or later I'd probably come to see you, to ask you questions."

"Did she tell you why she didn't tell Angel, or anyone else" Spike asked?

"She just said that it was your business and if you'd wanted Angel to know about it you would have told him. Fred trusts you, she say's your 'special'."

Spike had been so occupied talking to Connor that he was a little taken by surprise when Dawn asked "What's it say, on the cross?"

Spike hesitated for a few moments, but when Dawn gave him her 'come clean' look, he sighed and told her. "It says 'Hand of God'."

Dawn looked at the cross again and said "Cool", then slipped it back inside his t-shirt. Looking directly into Spikes eyes, she whispered to him "Your going to tell me everything, right? No more secrets?"

Spike sighed, but looking back at Dawn he said "Everything, but not now, okay?" Dawn just nodded her head in agreement.

Looking back over at Connor, Spike asked "So Boy, … Connor, can I depend on you not to mention the soul to anyone?"

Connor nodded his head and replied "Sure, like Fred said, it's your business."

A feeling of relief washed over Spike and he let himself relax. As he sat there a thought came to mind and he looked over at a window, the sun was setting. Giving Dawn a little squeeze to draw her attention, when she raised her head from his shoulder to look at him, he asked "You up to going out for a bit, it's important."

The idea of going out was a little frightening, but Dawn nodded her head anyway. "If it's important, I can do it."

Looking over at Connor, Spike said "I know you can fight, you any good with weapons?"

Connor grinned "You got an ax?"

Dawn got off Spikes lap and they all went over to Buffys weapons chest in the corner. Opening it up, Spike selected a short sword for himself and pulled out an ax for Connor. They both picked out a wooden stake too. Dawn hesitated for a few moments then picked up a stake for herself. Spike gave her a look of concern, but she just gave him a little smile and shrugged her shoulders. Spike grinned back at her, but didn't comment.

They all put on their coats and as soon as the sun was low enough that Spike knew he was safe they left the house. Spike led the way and it was only a few minutes before Dawn realized that they were heading for Spikes old crypt. She asked him about it and he explained that he use to have a secret hiding place at his old crypt where he'd kept a box with old mementos in it. There were some old pictures in the box and some of them had Darla in them. Connor immediately got excited and would have walked faster, but he didn't know where the old crypt was located. As they got closer to the crypt Dawn cautioned both Spike and Connor not to get their hopes up to high. She then explained that Spikes old friend Clem had lived in the crypt for awhile after Spike had left Sunnydale, but he got run out of it by a group of demons that wanted to take it over. Buffy had gone in after the demons and killed them all, but from what she'd told Dawn later, they'd pretty much trashed the place.

When they got to the crypt it was full dark by then. Spike morphed into vampire mode, which gave him better control over his senses. Reaching out with them he tried to detect the presence of anyone, vampire or demon, that might be in the crypt. Not detecting anything he led the way to the door, which he immediately could see had been knocked off it's hinges and was laying on the floor inside the crypt. Seeing how dark it was inside, Spike hesitated about taking Dawn inside, but at the same time didn't want to leave her outside. Dawn gave him a grin and pulled a flash light out of her coat pocket and turned it on. Spike led the way in with Dawn behind him and Connor bringing up the rear. Once inside Spike could see what Dawn had meant by the crypt having been trashed. Everything that remained of his old furniture had been smashed to pieces. Looking around he found a small candle stub and lit it. Going to the trap door that led to the lower level he saw that it too had been smashed and the ladder was missing.  
Setting the candle stub on the edge of the opening, Spike dropped down through the opening. Dawn became nervous because Spike wasn't with her and started moving the flash light all around searching every corner. Connor could see how nervous Dawn was becoming and moved up closer to her to reassure her, which only made her more nervous. Closing her eyes and taking in deep breaths, Dawn forced herself to calm down. When she opened her eyes again she could see Connor looking at her with concern on his face. Frowning at herself, Dawn said quietly "Your probably thinking I'm a big wuss, aren't you?"

Connor looked back at her, a slight puzzled look in his eyes, and asked "Why would I think that?"

"Me being all scaredy cat for one reason" Dawn replied, her nervousness showing in her voice.

Connor shrugged his shoulders, then told her "If I wasn't holding an ax in my hands I'd probably be a little scared myself. There's nothing wrong with being afraid you know. Where I grew up being afraid was how you stayed alive. It's just that you can't let the fear take over and control you, because if you do, then the fear wins."

Talking with Connor was helping Dawn stay calmed down so she asked him about where he grew up. He told her it was a hell dimension and he and his fath…. the man who raised him, Holtz, were the only humans. They'd mostly lived in the jungles, but sometimes up in the mountains. The whole world was filled with demons and monsters. He'd grown up fighting and killing them, mostly for survival, but sometimes because he was good at it. By the time Holtz found a way for them to come back to this world all the demons that lived anywhere near to him were afraid of him and usually kept their distance.

Dawn was about to ask him a question when she heard a noise behind her. Spinning around she pointed her light at the hole Spike had gone down and saw him climbing out of it. Once he was out he announced that the lower level was in even worst shape than the upper level and that the box was missing from where he'd hid it, but he couldn't find any trace of it's contents. That was why it had taken him so long, looking to see if the contents had been scattered around the room, since what was in the box wouldn't have been of any value to anyone but him. Connor was disappointed, but he shrugged it off.

The walk home was slower than the walk to the crypt because Dawn was talking to Connor about different things. Some of it was about the hell dimension where he'd lived, but some of the questions were about what he did in L.A.. Spike didn't talk very much, mostly he listened and acted interested. He was also the one who had slowed down the pace of the walk. What Dawn didn't know was that Spike was secretly pleased that she was talking so openly with Connor and didn't seem so nervous around him. Spike thought that Dawn felt safe around Connor, like she felt she could trust him. Spike knew that it was important that Dawn start feeling safe around other people. If she didn't she'd always be afraid and never get back to being her old self again.

When they got back to the house they could see that all the lights were on. Spike knew that when they left the house they hadn't left the lights on in that many rooms. Opening the front door cautiously he entered first with Connor right behind him, Dawn brought up the rear this time. Dawn called out "Hello, Buffy, anyone here?"

A noise came from the upstairs and Spike positioned himself at the foot of the stairs. When Buffy appeared she was at a full run and came charging down the stairs, he could see that she was crying. Spike barely got out of her way before she rushed past him and threw her arms around Dawn. When Buffy started talking it all came out in a rush. "Oh God Dawnie, are you alright? I was so scared. When I got home and you weren't here I didn't know what to think because you haven't gone out in so long except for your walks with Spike, but you weren't outside and I went up and down the street both ways and I couldn't find you. I searched the whole house for you. I called Giles but he didn't know where you were and then I saw that the weapons chest was open and some of the weapons were missing and I got even more scared. I thought something had attacked the house or something, I don't know, but there wasn't any damage to the house so I thought you'd had to run away from whatever was after you and I was going to search for you, but I didn't know which way to go or where to search. God Dawnie, I was so scared, are you alright? Where were you? Why did you have to leave the house? Is something after you? Please Dawnie tell me your alright." The tears were still flowing down Buffys face, but they were more in relief now than in fear. The panic and fear was leaving her voice, but she was still upset.

Connor had stepped back in shock, he'd only seen Buffy a few times in L.A., but she'd never behaved like this. Spike had also stepped back, but a look of guilt was written all over his face. He was blaming himself for Buffy being so upset and worried over Dawn. It was his fault, he should have left a note or something saying where they went, or he should have just waited for Buffy to come home and left Dawn behind.

Dawn was feeling overwhelmed by Buffys behavior and her reaction to Dawn being gone from the house. She was hugging Buffy back and was trying to tell her that she was find, that she was alright, that nothing had happened. She was actually almost feeling happy at the reaction and the way Buffy was behaving, when she looked over at Spike and saw the look on his face. Seeing the pain and guilt in his eyes shocked her into action. Pulling back from Buffy and grabbing her by the arms she gave her a little shake and almost yelled "Buffy, I'm alright, calm down." When Buffy paused and took a breath, Dawn started speaking before Buffy could start up again. "It's okay Buffy, every things fine. There isn't any danger, no one is after us. We just went over to Spikes old crypt to look for something he'd hid there, that's all. Spike and Connor took weapons just to be safe, not because there was a real danger." Pulling the stake she had in her pocket out and showing it to Buffy, she said "See, even I had one, just in case, but there wasn't any danger and we didn't really need them. I'm sorry we worried you Buffy, I'm really sorry, but were all okay, nothing happened."

Buffy stood there and started to shake as the nervous energy started to bleed off. Looking at Dawn, fresh tears started down her face. "Oh God, Dawnie, I was so scared." The panic was gone from Buffys voice now, she was calmer, but still shaken. "I can't stand the thought of something happening to you again, it just made me crazy. I know you were with Spike and I know that he'd do anything to keep you safe, but please, the next time you guys go out could you leave me a note or something." Buffy was trying to laugh the situation off, she was trying to smile and make light of her own panic, but she wasn't very convincing about it.

Just then Giles came rushing through the still opened front door and he was almost as upset and panicked as Buffy had been. So calming him down and explanations had to start all over again. The whole time Dawn was reassuring Buffy and Giles that she was perfectly alright, she kept an eye on Spike. She could see that he was reacting to both Buffys and Giles distress and was blaming himself for it. As soon as she was able she pulled away from both Buffy and Giles and moving up to Spike she wrapped her arms around him. Spike stood there stiffly for several long moments until he finally raised his arms from his sides and wrapped them around Dawn.

Buffy had been so worried and upset over Dawn that she hadn't paid any attention to Spike. But once Dawn pulled away from her and moved over to Spike to wrap her arms around him, she saw his face. The pain and guilt on his face was easy to read, even for Buffy, because she had seen that look on his face before. Feeling she had to say something to ease the situation, Buffy moved up behind Dawn to where she could see Spike close up and spoke to him. "Spike, I'm sorry I got all panicky girl on you. I know you'd never let anything happen to Dawn." Buffys voice was soft and sincere as she spoke. She'd noticed that Spikes first reaction as she approached him was to stiffen up a little, but as she spoke to him some of the tension seemed to lessen and some of the pain seemed to leave his eyes. "It's just, next time when you guys go out somewhere, could you leave a note, so I don't go all crazy again." Giles had moved up close too and had noticed the strain that Spike was under, he too could see the pain in Spikes eyes. Trying to sound as pompous as possible, Giles said "Yes definitely, a note would have been in order. The next time the two of you go gallivanting about please inform someone. I'm quite certain that I may have ground a gear off in my transmission when I missed a shift on the way over here." When Spike cocked an eyebrow at him, Giles smiled at him in return. Both Buffy and Giles could see the tension lessen in Spikes body language, and the pain in his eyes was mostly gone, he even smiled a little at Giles.

Trying to lessen the tension more and get Spike to actually respond to her, Buffy said "I wish you guys would have told me you were thinking of going to the crypt, I could have told you that it was pretty much trashed down to small rubble. Clem and I went through it after I killed off the demons that took it over and there wasn't much left. What were you looking for anyway?"

Spike hesitated to speak, so Dawn spoke for him. "Spike had a small wooden box hidden there that he thought might have survived the demons. But he looked for it and it was gone."

Buffys eyes got big for a moment as she remembered something. "This wooden box, was it about the size of a large cigar box?"

Spike looked at Buffy and nodded his head as he spoke "Yeah, it was an old humidor for cigars that I picked up a long time ago. Use to keep it in the trunk of the DeSoto, then moved it to the crypt when the car stopped running."

A smile spread across Buffys lips as she said "Wait" and turning from Spike ran up the stairs to her room. In just a minute she was coming back down the stairs with a wooden box in her hands with tape wrapped around the box. When she got to the bottom of the stairs she held it out to Spike as she told him "Clem found it while he was living there. When the demons ran him out of the crypt he took it with him and brought it to me. He asked me to keep it for you. He said that if you ever came back to town that I'd probably see you before he did, and he'd feel safer having me watch over it than him."

Spike took the box from Buffy when she held it out to him, but his head was in such a swirl he just stood there with it in his hands. Seeing how upset Buffy had been over Dawn missing from the house had thrown him into feelings of deep guilt and despair. Having Dawn come back into his arms had made him feel better, and having both Buffy and Giles act as if everything was alright now had helped too. But when Buffy had said she was sorry to him, his mind had seemed to blink. Buffy never said she was sorry, at least not to him. Then when she brought the box down and handed it to him, saying that she'd kept the box for him, to keep it safe for him, that she was keeping it until he returned. Spikes brain kept blinking, as if small shocks were going off inside of it.

It was Dawn who brought him out of his space out by asking "Well, are you going to open it?"

Spike looked around as if he didn't know what she was talking about, until he realized he was still standing in front of everyone looking at him holding his box. "Uh, yeah, sure." A crooked half hearted smile was on his lips as he carried the box over to the couch and sat down. Dawn sat down next to him so that she could see into the box when he opened it. Looking up at Buffy from where he was sitting he told her "There isn't really anything in here worth much, just old memories. I wouldn't have even bothered to look for it, …. except there's some pictures that have Darla in them. The Boy wanted to know what she looked like." When Buffy didn't say anything or show any disapproval he turned his attention back to the box in his lap. It was then that he noticed that there was tape wrapped around the box keeping it closed. When he looked up at Buffy there was a question in his eyes.

When Buffy saw the question in his eyes she misunderstood what he was questioning. Quickly she hurried out "I didn't open it Spike, honest, I didn't. When Clem gave me the box I wrapped tape around it to keep it closed, but I didn't look inside. I put it away in my closet where it would be safe, but that was over two years ago, and I guess I forgot about it." Seeing the look on his face change a little, Buffy misunderstood again. "I don't mean I forgot about it, I meant that when you came back there was so much else going on and it sort of slipped to the back of my mind. I would have given it to you sooner Spike, I just didn't think of it, that's all." Buffys explanation had gotten weaker at the end and just faded away to an apologetic near whisper.

Spike gave Buffy a small grin and said "That's alright, love, it's like I said, there's nothing of importance in here, just memories." He then turned his attention to the box and unwrapped the tape from around it. Spike and Dawn were on the couch. Buffy was standing to their left at one end of the coffee table in front of them and Connor was standing to their right at the other end of the coffee table. Giles was standing to the outside of the coffee table directly in front of them. No one was trying to push in to closely, giving Spike his space, but they were all curious about what he might have in the box that had seemed important enough for him to keep for so many years.

When Spike lifted the lid of the box no one else but Dawn could see what was inside of it. Dawns hand reached out quickly and snatched whatever was on top away and stuffed it inside of the pocket of the duster. Neither Connor or Giles saw what it was, but Buffy got a glimpse as it went into Dawns pocket. It was small and pink and lacy, and Buffy knew it was one of her thong's. Spike had kept a pair of her panties in his memory box. For a moment Buffy almost blushed when she saw them, but then remembered that Spike had said twice that there was nothing of importance in the box. When Spike glanced up at her, Buffy was able to pretend that she hadn't seen the panties.

Instead of keeping the box in his lap where only he and Dawn could see what was in it, Spike leaned forward and set it down on the coffee table so that everyone could see inside of the box. On top was a folded piece of paper, Dawn took it out of the box and unfolded it, it was a hand drawn picture of Buffy curled up and sleeping in a chair that looked a lot like Spikes old beat up comfy chair. Seeing the picture herself, Buffy thought that Spike must have drawn it himself and that he must have done it shortly after she came back from heaven and use to come to his crypt to find peace by being with him. Buffy felt her emotions filling her throat and couldn't have spoken if anyone had said anything to her about the picture. Spike kept his eyes down and didn't look up at her, but Dawn did and she did see Buffy trying to swallow her emotions back down.

The next thing in the box was an envelope with about a dozen photographs in it. There were three of Dawn, one of Dawn and Buffy together, six of just Buffy, one with Buffy, Willow and Tara together, and the last one was one of Joyce. Buffy recognized the picture, it had been a picture of her mom and dad that was taken a year before their divorce. Her dad had been cut out of the picture so that it was only a picture of Joyce now. Buffy had gotten tears in her eyes when she saw the picture of her mom and Dawn had gripped Spikes arm when she saw the picture too. Spike had looked up at Buffy, she could see the look in his eyes, as if he expected her to say something negative about him having a picture of her mother. Instead, Buffy gave him a smile and said "Mom liked you Spike. I think she'd like it that you wanted to remember her." When a tear came to one of Spikes eyes, he ducked his head so that no one would see it, but Buffy had already seen it.

The next envelope in the box was bigger and it was on the bottom of the box. Inside the envelope were old pictures that had a sepia color to them. Spike spread the photographs out as he went through them. There were several pictures of Drusilla, a couple of Drusilla and Darla together, two of Angelus and Darla together, two of Spike and Drusilla together, one of each of them alone, and one that had all four of them posed together. Spike sorted all the pictures that had Darla in them to one side, except the group picture of the four of them, and handed them to Connor. The others he put back into the envelope they had come from and put them to one side. As Buffy had watched Spike sort through the photographs it came to her how important those pictures must have been to Spike because all of them were over a hundred years old and he had been carrying them around with him for all these years. A stab of pain pierced Buffys heart and guilt filled her thoughts, she couldn't stop the thoughts of all the times she had told Spike that he couldn't feel real feelings, real love, because he was a soulless monster. Just seeing those pictures proved once again that she had lied to herself about Spikes ability to feel and love, because she had been so uncertain at the time of her own ability to feel anything or love anyone.

Spike was going to close the box, but Dawn stopped him, she wanted to see the rest of the things in the box and know what they meant to him. There was a piece of red ribbon that Spike said he kept because Dru had worn it in her hair one time. There was a small silk rose, the kind that a man would wear pinned to the lapel of his dinner jacket. Spike spoke quietly, but Buffy could hear him as he explained that one time he and Dru were in Paris and a little girl was selling them on the street. She made them herself, then sold them on the street outside of the theaters or in front of restaurants that wealthy people went too. Spike told Dawn that Dru had wanted to eat the girl, but for some reason he couldn't let her do it and ended up giving the girl all the money he had on him, a couple hundred pounds, for the one rose. He said he took Dru away from the girl and found her someone else to eat. As Buffy listened to the story it struck her how sweet and sensitive the story was and also how horrible it was at the same time. But what amazed her even more was the way Spike told the story to Dawn as if he didn't have anything to hide from her or be ashamed of, and at the same time how excepting Dawn was of the story without any sign that the story upset her in any way. It came to Buffy that it was the total acceptance of Spike, as he was in the past and as he was now, that made the bond between them so strong. Dawn never sat in judgment of Spike, she had excepted him as her friend and she had loved him and let him love her in return.

There were other things in the box, a ticket stub from a Ramones concert, a key that opened the front door of his home when he was still living, a small notebook with writing in it and other loose pages stuffed inside of it. Spike wouldn't let Dawn open it, saying it was personal, like her diaries. Dawn didn't argue about it. Spike reached into the box and lifted out a small little ring made of gold with a small emerald mounted on it. Without hesitating, Spike took Dawns right hand and slipped it on one of her fingers. He told her quietly that it had belonged to his mother and he wanted her to have it now. Tears came to Dawns eyes as she hugged Spike and thanked him several times. There were other things in the box to, but there was one thing that drew Buffys attention. It was a silver ring with a skull face on it.

Connor was busy looking at the pictures of Darla, his mother. This was the first time he'd ever seen what she looked like. The few descriptions that he had received of her weren't the same as seeing her for himself. Giles was standing next to him looking at the pictures also. He mentioned quietly that there was a copy place in town that could make excellent reproductions of the originals that would even be in the sepia tones. Connor kept going through the pictures again and again, but kept coming back to one that showed Darla and Angelus together. They were both smiling and looked extremely happy together.

Dawn suddenly announced that she was starving to death and needed to eat. It was agreed that they would order in pizza from a place Spike liked because they also sold chicken wings and would usually deliver quickly. They ordered three pizzas and a double order of hot spicy chicken wings. Dawn went off to the kitchen to call in the order and to get out plates and napkins for everyone and set them up in the dinning room. Giles was talking quietly to Connor about what it might cost for reproductions and how many he might want and if he might want any of them blown up to a larger size.

Spike had put all of his things back into the box and was standing up with it in his hands. Buffy thought that he was going to put it away somewhere and approached him before he could leave the room. Hesitating at first, not knowing how to say what she want to say, to make the request she wanted to make. Spike noticed Buffy standing just a few feet away from him, he couldn't help but notice the way she was fidgeting around twisting her fingers together. He didn't say anything to her, but he looked at her with a question in his eyes.

Buffy took a deep breath and started talking fast. "Spike, I'd like to ask you a favor, or actually ask you for something. I saw it in the box, I mean you said that you didn't really care anymore, but of course you cared once, you've kept all those things for so long, you must have cared once. But, I mean if you don't really care anymore, I was wondering if I could have it? I mean, you don't have to give it to me, of course you don't have to, it belongs to you, but if it doesn't mean anything to you anymore, I was wondering if I could have it."

Spike couldn't think of anything in the box that Buffy might want, until the thought came to him that maybe she wanted one of the pictures of Angelus. It brought a stab of pain to Spikes heart that she might want a picture of Angelus, but then again Angelus was Angel and she might not have any pictures of Angel. Hiding his pain and the way he was feeling inside, his voice all quiet and controlled, Spike said "Buffy, anything you want you can have, just tell me what you want and it's yours."

Buffy let out a small sigh, partly because Spike had agreed, but partly because he agreed to give her what she wanted so easily, as if it really didn't matter to him. Spike knelt down and placed the box down on the coffee table again. Opening it he pulled out the envelope with the pictures in it and offered it up to Buffy. She looked down at him with a puzzled look on her face, it was also in her tone of voice when she said "Spike I don't want any of those pictures?" When Spike continued to kneel there looking up at her, she finally realized that she had never told him what she wanted. With her face turning red from embarrassment she rushed out "I'm sorry, I didn't say, I'm sorry, I … I don't want any of the pictures. I was hoping that maybe …. I could have the …. ring." Spike was still looking up at her with a look on his face that clearly said he didn't understand. "I mean, you don't have to give it to me, but it was the only engagement ring anyone ever gave to me. I mean, if it doesn't mean anything to you anymore. I mean, I think it ….. I mean I know that it would mean something to me."

The look on Spikes face was clearly shock as understanding of what Buffy was asking for registered. Tentatively he picked the ring up from the box and offered it up to her. For a brief moment the same thought passed through both of their minds, the first time Spike had got down on his knees and offered Buffy the same ring. A smile spread across Buffys face as she reached for the ring, a similar smile was starting to touch Spikes lips as their fingers touched.

As their fingers touched Spike jerked back from Buffy and fell to his back as a roar of pain escaped his throat and he grabbed his head. Buffy was shocked, but immediately knelt down and grabbed Spikes hands where they were gripping his head. She was asking in a loud panicky voice "Spike, what's the matter, what's wrong?" She was gripping his hands tightly trying to pull them away from his head so that she could see his face and see what was wrong. Spike started to convulse on the floor as if electrical shocks were passing through his body.

Giles was the first to understand what was happening as he rushed over to Buffy and grabbing her by the shoulders pulled her back from Spike as he shouted to her "Buffy, let him go, your killing him."

Dawn had rushed back into the living room and seeing Spike on the floor writhing in pain she dropped to her knees and clasping his head between her hands she bent over him and spoke soft gentle words to try to sooth him and ease his pain. Buffy was watching Dawn do what she had wanted to do and couldn't understand what was happening. Looking over at Giles with panic in her eyes, she nearly shouted "Giles, what's going on? What did you mean I was killing him. What's wrong with Spike? What's happening?"

Giles had moved over next to Spike and kneeling down was looking him over. There was blood seeping out of Spikes nose and running down the side of his face. He had his eyes closed tightly and was breathing heavily. Speaking softly, Giles asked "Spike will you be alright? Is there something we can do for you? Are you still in pain?"

Spike started laughing. It was a weak laugh, and his pain was evident in his voice when he spoke. "Told you Watcher, retribution. Bloody things rewired itself. Tell her, she doesn't need to be afraid anymore."

Buffy heard Spikes words but didn't understand what they meant. Looking at Giles she could see by the look on his face that he did understand. Forcing the panic out of her voice, she spoke to Giles. "Giles, what's he talking about? What's wrong with Spike?"

Giles rose to his feet and walked over near the fireplace, taking his glasses off he started to clean them with his handkerchief. Buffy allowed Giles this time, she knew he needed it to gather his thoughts before speaking. Rising to her own feet she stood in front of him with her arms folded across her chest and waited. When Giles put his handkerchief away and put his glasses back on, he looked up at Buffy and started speaking. "Shortly after Spike left Sunnydale his chip started misfiring and nearly killed him. By the time he was able to function and think coherently again, the chip had stopped functioning altogether. Spike was of the opinion that it must have burned itself out from firing so much. Apparently that wasn't what happened at all. You'll remember that before he left the chip wouldn't let him harm other humans, but it didn't react to you at all. It now appears that the chip has no reaction to other humans, but if he so much as touches you it fires at full strength. That's what Spike meant, that you don't have to be afraid of him any longer, if he so much as touches you, the chip will render him helpless."

Buffy heard Giles words and as if in a daze moved over to the couch and sat down. For several minutes she ran the words through her mind until she understood what he had said and the ramification for Spike, and for her. Buffys face seemed to twist in pain, tears came to her eyes and flowed heavily. Bending herself over she buried her face against her knees, bringing her arms up to wrap around her head. Heavy sobs started to wrack her body as she cried. Giles knelt down next to her and tried to sooth her, but he knew there was nothing he could say that would change or alter the situation. Giles was the only person that knew the secrets of Buffys heart. Not because he wanted to, but because there was no one else with whom Buffy felt she could share her secrets. On more occasions than he wanted to count Buffy had shared her feelings of overwhelming guilt, shame and remorse for her behavior and treatment of Spike during those months after she returned from heaven. On numerous occasions he had watched her cry as she voiced her regrets for what she had done to him, how she had mistreated him, hurt him. And now, here they were, through no fault of either one of them, bring pain back into each others lives again. Giles gazed up at the ceiling, as though looking to heaven, and the thought passed through his mind that if there really was a God, he or she, must have a very perverse sense of humor.

Dawn led the way up the stairs while Connor and Giles carried Spike up to Dawns room. Buffy followed behind them, unable to assist in any way. They laid Spike on the bed and took his boots off of him, then pulled a blanket up over him. Dawn was up on the bed with him, touching his head and face, whispering to him softly, trying to sooth him. Buffy stood in the doorway watching, feeling helpless. With no one even noticing, she backed out of the doorway and went to her room, locking her door behind her. Sitting on the edge of her bed she stared off into space, lost in her thoughts and the pain that she was feeling.

At some point in time there was a tap on her door and Giles quiet voice speaking to her, but Buffy was so lost inside her thoughts she didn't hear or respond. For hours she sat there thinking about the chip inside Spikes head and what it had done to him. Giles had said that the chip had changed itself and that it now only reacted to her. That at the slightest touch from Buffy it would now fire off inside Spikes head and render him helpless. Render him helpless. At the slightest touch from her. Tears ran down her face as these thoughts kept revolving in her mind. Buffy didn't know how the chip had changed, but she knew that the change was her fault. That she was the reason Spike had been hurt tonight. That she was the reason he was in pain.

Memories of fantasies and dreams that someday Spike would return and she would have the chance to apologize. To make him understand how sorry she was for the way she had treated him. To maybe have a chance of starting over with him, as friends at least, or more, if he might still want there to be more. If he still had any feelings left for her. If he still cared at all. But now that chance was gone. Sure, there was still the chance of them being friends again, distant friends. They could never be the kind of friends that he and Dawn were, being able to touch each other, hold each other, comfort each other. They would never be able to touch hands in even the most innocent of ways. She would never be able to give him a hug or even a kiss on the cheek. He would never be able to reach out and brush a strand of hair out of her face, like he had done at times in the past, like she had seen him do unconsciously with Dawn earlier that evening. She wouldn't even be able to help him if he were injured, because her touch would hurt him even more. The ache inside her heart seemed to grow and grow, she was certain that soon it would break in two and she would cease to exist. For the first time, ever, Buffy looked inside herself and admitted without hesitations or reservations, without denial or fear of consequences that she loved Spike. She admitted to herself that she had loved him before he left, before that night, before she had beaten him down again and again with rejection. She opened her heart and admitted that it had been her own fear that had prevented her from acknowledging his love, or her own hidden feelings for him. She admitted that she had been scared to near panic at the thought of loving another vampire. She even admitted that what she had feared most wasn't that Spike was soulless and couldn't feel love, because in her heart she knew he could feel love. What she had feared most was that even with a soul she was the one who couldn't feel love. Spike had been able to make her feel when he touched her, kissed her, had sex with her. But as soon as he stopped the emptiness came back, and she had blamed him for it. It had been easier to blame Spike than to blame herself. It had been easier to tell him that she could never love him because he was soulless and what he called love wasn't real, only empty obsession. It had been easier for her to use him and abuse him when she could tell herself that his feelings weren't real. Denial of the truth had always been the easiest way for Buffy to deal with her life when it came to her feelings for Spike.

Buffy had gone through all of these thoughts and admissions before, but this time she didn't allow herself a speck of denial or self delusion. This time she faced the full and honest truth of her feelings, she loved Spike with all her heart. And now that she had faced the truth, admitted to it fully, it was breaking her heart.

The first light of dawn was coming through the window when Buffy rose from her bed. Her face was blank of emotion, her eyes lifeless. Quietly she opened her door and just as quietly went down the stairs. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she noticed the boxes of pizza and the bag of hot wings sitting on the small table near the door. Giles must have paid for them when they arrived, but because of Spike being hurt no one had eaten. Spikes memories box was still sitting on the coffee table. Buffy opened the box, but what she wanted was missing. Getting down on her hands and knees she started searching the floor. It took several minutes for her to find it, but when she did she snatched it up immediately. Climbing back up the stairs, making as little noise as possible, she reentered her room and closed the door behind her. Going over to her dresser she picked up a silver chain and cross. Unclasping the chain she pulled it free of the cross. With trembling fingers she threaded the chain through the ring and raising her hands locked the clasp behind her neck. Walking over to the bed she climbed up on it. Lying on her side, her head on a pillow, legs drawn up, one hand tucked up under her chin, the other wrapped tightly around the ring, she closed her eyes. As exhaustion took over her body she slipped into sleep, tears leaked slowly from her eyes.

(02/28/06) 


End file.
